


Glory Road

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: AU, Angst, Bathroom Sex, Bed sex finally happens, Blow Jobs, Cosette knows best, Cosette requires her papas to kiss more, Cosette sees too much, Domestic scenes, Drunk tequila sex, Emotional crap, Gags, Glory Holes, Gun Kink, Handcuffs, How to date someone in prison, Inappropriate conversations around children, Javert apparently knows fairy tales, Javert can cook too, Javert comes in his pants, Javert says fuck a lot, Justice Hat, M/M, Modern AU, Punching, Realistic outcomes, Rimming, Road Trip, Sad Backstory, Sappy, Valjean can cook, Wall Sex, awkward handjobs, stuck in a motel, the waiting is the hardest part, this is not how you raise children, waking up is awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 39,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean and Javert meet in a gay bar. Things progress from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the glorious kinkmeme. Currently a WIP over there, but I'm tired of AO3 reminding me that it only keeps drafts for a week.

He’s drunk.

That’s the only reason Javert can come up with to explain why he’s on his knees in a filthy bathroom in a run-down bar.

_Drunk and horny_ , his brain supplies. Okay, Javert will accept that.

It’s been a long night. He finally got a lead on his case so his supervisor gave him a little more lee-way in his investigation. He deserves a night out.

Nobody has to know Javert’s night out involves a glory-hole in a gay bar. Nobody.

In a strange way, this situation reminds him of when he was a boy and still went to confession. Every single week his guilt made him sweat as he confessed all his insignificant sins to the priest, who always sighed and told him " _not to be so filthy, say three hail marys, pray all night, there is no hope for you_."

Javert didn’t care. He became a policeman anyway, then was promoted to inspector, and what does it matter if he’s going to hell because he likes dick. He does a good job; he upholds the law. He deserves a night off.

Now he’s sweating again, on his knees again, waiting for the other stall to be filled. Javert doesn’t give a shit who it is. He just wants someone to stick their thick cock through the hole already. His own is rubbing insistently at his trousers at the thought.

The bathroom door swings open and Javert tenses . Someone's opening the door to the opposite stall.

Javert holds his breath and prays for something he would definitely have to confess if he still bothered going to church.

There's a hesitant but firm knock on the other side of the stall and Javert knocks back so damn quickly, he'd curse himself for his eagerness if he were sober.

Fortunately he’s not sober. The whiskey is warming his belly nicely.

There's a muffled sound and then Javert stares in wonder as the most glorious cock he's ever seen pushes through the hole.

Javert forgets about the man standing on the other side of the stall. He forgets that his knees aren't as young as they used to be. He forgets everything but this beautiful cock.

Leaning forward he rubs his lips over the head. There's a quick intake of breath from the other stall, but Javert doesn't pay attention. He practically nuzzles the cock, he’s so eager for it. Sucking wetly at the head he wraps his hand around the base. Good god, the heat floods through his hand, making him moan around the man's cock. It surges upward in his mouth, bumping the top of his mouth and causing Javert to gag momentarily.

Abruptly the cock stops, pulling back out of the hole. Javert moans in frustration.

"Are you all right?"

Javert blinks. "Christ yes, please just put it back." He’s not going to bother explaining that sometimes the best blow jobs are when your partner just forces you to take it. That’s a little forward for this sort of encounter.

Brief silence, then the other man just chuckles as he inserts himself back through the hole. It's a pleasant sound, reminding Javert of something though he's too occupied to dwell on it now.

He's far too busy lavishing attention upon the cock. By now there's a bead of pre-come leaking from the tip. Javert catches it with the tip of his tongue and swallows it like it’s nectar.

The taste sends him over the edge. He takes as much of the man in his mouth as he can, and the cock starts thrusting harder, hitting the back of his throat, making him sob with need.

His own hard-on is fucking killing him. Javert presses the heel of his palm to his crotch, grunting as he makes himself ache harder. This is just what he needs after the endless months of working on this fruitless case.

He wants this so much but he doesn’t want it to end too quickly, so he drags himself off the cock slowly, then licks his way back up the man's length. The man’s breathing harder in the other stall. Javert imagines him pressed up against the filthy wall. He teases the head with the tip of his tongue, making the man swear.

Javert braces himself with both hands against the wall and starts fucking the cock with his mouth in long, even bobbing movements.

“ _Christ_ ,”

Oh god, he’s so hard, pre-come dampens the front of his jeans. Javert gets the button undone with his right hand and just sticks it in his boxers. He jerks himself awkwardly, the rhythm hard to manage to while he’s going down on the guy, but he’s too desperate to wait.

“I’m gonna, _fuck_ ,” the man groans again and just as he does, he shoots everything he’s got down Javert’s throat. Javert’s hand stills in his pants, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already coming as a thick stream of come courses down his throat. He swallows it all, and finally lets the cock slip from between his lips.

He’s too dazed to move at first, his hand still in his pants, coated in come. His heart is beating as wildly as a racehorse. Shit, that was so good, he almost wants to know who the cock belongs to. He knows that’s stupid. Everybody gets off, everybody goes home happy. That’s how it works.

The door to the other stall opens and Javert slumps, resting his head against the wall, waiting for the man to leave.

Then the door to his stall is pushed open and Javert's breath catches. This would be terrible no matter who had thrust open that stall door, but never in his life has he imagined a scenario such as this one.


	2. Chapter 2

A tall man in a leather jacket and a short trim beard gazes down at him in surprise.  
  
Javert can only stare in shock and then he tries to scramble to his feet, only to fall back against the wall. He braces himself with both arms still staring up at the man.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing here, Valjean?" The snarl's still there; the hatred still present.  
  
"Same thing as you apparently." Valjean tells him unperturbed. "Only I'm the one getting my cock sucked."  
  
Javert goes for him and Valjean steps coolly aside letting him smash into the opposite wall. His hand closes around Javert's neck, pressing him up against the wall before Javert can move.  
  
"Why are _you_ here, Javert?"  
  
Javert rolls his eyes as he faces the wall. "Isn't it obvious?" he spits.  
  
Valjean's fingers dig hard into his neck which unfortunately only makes Javert’s spent cock stir slightly.  
  
"Explain."  
  
Javert grimaces. "As it so happens I'm rather good at sucking cock."  
  
He expects a punch. Instead Valjean's leans in, pressing his body close. "I had noticed," he says dryly.  
  
"And?"  
  
Valjean's hand snakes down his back till his hands rest on Javert's ass.  
  
"I suggest we call a truce. Just for while we’re in here tonight.” He squeezes Javert’s ass lewdly.  
  
Outraged, Javert turns to face him and Valjean braces both his hands against the door, either side of Javert's head.  
  
“You expect me to just forget,” Javert grunts as Valjean’s hand slides along the crease of his jeans. Javert’s head is swimming, but he manages to finish his sentence, “you’re a fucking criminal?”  
  
Valjean leans into him, bumping his hips sensuously against Javert’s.  
  
“Truce?” Valjean demands. His lips make the word sound almsot believable. And what would it hurt? It’s not like Javert can report this incident. He’d get suspended, if not outright fired.  
  
“Truce.” He agrees reluctantly.  
  
Valjean grins. “Did you…?” His eyes slide down Javert’s body to his crotch, examining him. His low chuckle brings a flush to Javert’s cheek.  
  
“All this time I never knew what would bring you to your knees,” Valjean murmurs, “And all I had to do was unzip my pants.”  
  
Javert growls, shoving him hard in the chest. Valjean catches his hands and they slam up against the door. Valjean’s still laughing so Javert does the only thing he can to shut up him up.  
  
In retrospect, kissing the man he put in jail five years ago isn’t the wisest thing. _It’s the whiskey_ , Javert thinks, as his teeth tug at Valjean’s lower lip, his hands on Valjean’s ass. _Must be the whiskey_.  
  
Valjean’s giving as good as he gets, his brawn has always been Javert’s guilty pleasure. Now, having the man grunt and thrust against him, it’s intoxicating.  
  
“You’re making me hard again.” Valjean doesn’t really sound as though he’s complaining.  
  
“Shut up.” Javert squeezes his ass harder, bringing Valjean’s crotch hard against him. The whole restroom stinks of sweat and sex, and leather. He’s going to have stubble burn tomorrow from Valjean’s beard; the thought just makes Javert tug harder till he draws blood and Valjean fucking moans into his mouth.  
  
He’s got his hand down Javert’s pants, groping him, and Javert just bites harder.  
  
There’s a hesitant knock at the door and a little voice says, “Papa?”  
  
They freeze and Valjean pulls back, lips swollen and bloody, eyes dark with lust.  
  
Javert stares at him. “You brought her _here?_ ” He knows Valjean is a criminal, but since when is he stupid as fuck too?  
  
“Shut up.” Valjean wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He reaches past Javert to grab the door. “We’re done here, Javert.” The door slams shut behind him.  
  
Javert tries and fails to make himself look as though he hasn’t been debauched in the toilets, and zips up his pants. The stain there makes him swear. Then he stumbles out of the bathroom after Valjean.  
  
  
* * *  
  
He's definitely still drunk. That’s obvious from the way Javert focuses on Valjean’s ass as he catches up with him. Yeah, still drunk, but then Javert blinks and does a double take as Valjean squats down to scoop up a tiny blonde kid.  
  
Valjean frowns at Javert. “I said we’re done.”

Valjean's practically ignoring him, too busy checking out the rest of the bar like he’s afraid they’re going to jump him or something.  
  
“And I said you brought her _here?_ ” His voice is unnecessarily loud. Javert tries not to look at the kid, but she won’t stop staring at him. He makes a face at her and her lip trembles.  
  
“Hey,” Valjean glares at him. “Keep it down, okay?”  
  
“You don’t tell me what to do.” Javert points at him. “I…I tell you what to do.” Fuck, his mouth is dry and his head is starting to swim. Fucking Valjean, ruined a perfectly good buzz. “Me, I’m the cop. You’re the criminal.” That’s the way it works.  
  
"I'd shut my mouth if I were you," Valjean mutters. "They don't much like cops."  
  
Javert looks around. Annoyingly Valjean isn't wrong. The other occupants of the bar are already taking too much interest in them. The last thing Javert needs is for someone to realize he's a cop. His vision blurs. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to get his head to clear.  
  
“You agreed to the truce.” Valjean’s clutching the child like he expects Javert to snatch her from his arms here and now.  
  
“That was in the bathroom.” Javert says.  
  
“So?”  
  
“We left the bathroom.” Now that the haze of lust has faded somewhat Javert’s itching to slap his cuffs on Valjean. His hand ducks inside his jacket, hovering near his gun.  
  
Valjean’s grip tightens on Cosette. “Javert. Please.”  
  
“Papa,” Cosette looks from Valjean to Javert. “Is he coming with us?”  
  
“No,” Valjean and Javert say simultaneously.  
  
Still, Cosette’s words have definitely given Valjean an idea. “It’s not like you can drive in this state.” He looks around the bar. Too many people are still watching them. If he leaves Javert here, the idiot could get himself killed. Or worse, he’ll go to the cops and they’ll be after Valjean before he has enough time to put enough miles between himself and Javert. He can’t let that happen.  
  
Cosette cups her tiny hands around his ear and whispers something, making Valjean smile.  
  
Javert doesn’t like the look of that smile. He still wants to draw his gun. This whole situation is _wrong_.  
  
The majority of the bar is still watching. Valjean sets Cosette down and leans in, sliding his hand over Javert’s ass. Javert starts to jerk away and Valjean’s grip tightens.  
  
“We have two options. I tell them you’re a cop, and you get your ass kicked the way you deserve, or you come with us. I’ll drop you off somewhere safe. I give you my word.”  
  
Javert’s laugh is insulting. “You expect me to trust you? Take your word? That's pretty rich.” He tries to pull away and now Valjean’s got both hand on his ass, holding him there firmly. It’s so tempting to just punch him in the throat, but all the people watching them make Javert uneasy. None more so than Cosette with her wide expectant eyes. Almost like she's hoping they'll kiss or some shit. Fucking kids.  
  
Valjean’s lips thin. “So we’re going with the ass kicking option then?”  
  
Javert just stares at him. And then what the hell, he presses his lips to Valjean's, slipping a hand down between them to cup him hard. Just as he thought. Valjean’s still getting off on this.  
  
Javert hears a murmur of approval as well as one shout of "Get a fucking room." The attention of the bar fades and Valjean pulls back slightly.  
  
"You just fucking groped me in front of my kid," Valjean mutters, giving him a wolf grin, lean and dangerous.  
  
Javert returns the grin. "You just said fucking in front of her. And she's not your kid."  
  
Valjean glares at him and Javert almost wishes he'd kept his mouth shut.  
  
Abruptly, Valjean releases him and steps back. "Coming?" He heads towards the door, Cosette in tow.  
  
Against his better judgment, Javert follows him. Outside the bar, there’s a row of motorcycles lined up. Valjean settles Cosette on one and gives her his helmet.  
  
Javert just shakes his head. "You're crazy if you think I'm riding on that."  
  
"We don’t have time for this shit.” Valjean swings one leg over the bike. “Get on.”  
  
“What am I even doing?” Javert doesn’t have an answer for himself as he slides on behind Valjean, trying to keep as much space between them as possible.  
  
Valjean grabs Javert’s arms, slipping them around his torso. "Hold on."  
  
There's a tiny weight pressing against his hands as Cosette settles herself against him, against Valjean's stomach. Javert flattens his hands against Valjean, trying not to touch her, but she’s nestled up to Valjean, and one of her hands catches Javert’s, holding it tightly.  
  
Javert sighs.  
  
Valjean gets the engine going and before Javert say he’s changed his mind, they’re off, winding their way through the darkness underneath the starry sky.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Javert wakes with his head splitting. He stinks like smoke and, he sniffs, glancing lower at himself. Christ, is that come?

He looks around, his surroundings don't fit. He’s lying on a bed in a room that’s definitely not his apartment. It's not anywhere he recognizes and when he looks over at the other bed, he realizes there's a child curled up asleep.

Javert rolls out of bed and hits the carpet with a ragged groan. Fucking hangover. His feet are cold and he can’t find his shoes. Where the hell are his shoes? He crawls around looking for them and only stops when he's in front of the bathroom door and it’s pulled open. Suddenly there are nice firm legs in front of him and he looks up to see Jean Fucking Valjean of all people, thief and now kidnapper, standing there in a thin towel.

Valjean raises his eyebrows at finding Javert once again on his knees. "Going somewhere, Javert?"

"Yeah," Javert sits up, brushing his hair out of his face. "The nearest police station if it’s okay with you." He doesn’t really care if it’s not.

"It's not," Valjean's voice brooks no argument.

That’s just fine. Javert’s more than ready to punch someone. He pushes himself off the carpet, trying not to reel when he hears a murmur from the bed and Valjean shoves him quickly into the bathroom.

It's still filled with steam. Javert coughs and Valjean pushes him up against the sink, threatening to castrate him or something if he wakes Cosette up (like he wanted to do that), but all Javert can think of is that the towel between his clothes and Valjean's body is so fucking thin he has the outline of Valjean's dick practically memorized as it presses into his thigh. Javert may not remember everything from last night, like how they wound up in this shitty motel, but he remembers that cock all right. It's not the kind you forget.

Valjean glances down at him. "You get a hard on for all the criminals you chase or am I just special?"

"Well, you are the first one to ever haul me off to a motel."

"Yeah? You like that?" Valjean grinds his hips against Javert's.

"Put up or shut up," Javert growls.

So Valjean does.

He drops the towel, and fuck if his dick isn't as just gorgeous as Javert remembers. He's not even drunk now. There's absolutely no excuse for the haste with which he shoves his jeans down.

"Condom?"

"You weren't so worried last night." Valjean's thumbs are doing dangerous things to his thighs.

"I was drunk last night and besides, now I know whose dick I'm touching. When was the last time you got tested?"

Valjean just leans in, rubbing his cock against Javert's crotch. "Last month. All systems good. What about you?"

"I'm clean."

"Says who?" Valjean teases. "I think you're a filthy little fuck."

Hearing that should not make Javert even harder, and yet, there goes his cock, full salute.

Valjean grins. He gives Javert’s cock a quick squeeze. “Spread your legs.”

Javert does as best as he can until Valjean gets frustrated and just pulls his jeans all the way off. Somehow they've apparently agreed that Javert's the one getting fucked. He'd argue but it's hard to deny Valjean's cock anything.

Javert grips the sink counter as Valjean’s dick nudges at his hole. Valjean just grabs his ass, lifting him up on the sink.

"Lotion or nothing?" He inquires.

Javert grits his teeth. "Surprise me."

He honestly thought Valjean would go for the raw burn, but instead fingertips cool and slick with lotion probe at him, pushing inside. He shivers at the coolness and Valjean pushes further, curling his fingers till Javert groans, "Come the fuck on already."

"Well, since you ask so nicely." Valjean removes his fingers, lining up his cock.

Javert grunts a little with the intrusion, Valjean is much larger than his fingers after all. But then Valjean really gets going and it's all Javert can do to keep up. His legs wrap around Valjean's hips, pulling him closer. His socked feet dig into Valjean's bare back. Somehow Valjean knows just how to move, how to make his cock hit just the right spot inside Javert that makes him arch his hips toward the other man.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Oh fuck.

Valjean wraps a hand around his dick and starts stroking Javert off in time with his thrusts and Javert’s hands give up trying to hold onto the sink. Somehow they wind up on Valjean’s shoulders, digging hard into his muscle.

“You feel,” Valjean pants, “oh god, so fucking good.” His hand tightens on Javert, and they come in one, simultaneous frenzied rush.

Javert can feel the sweat crawling down his back from the steam. He leans his head back against the mirror, just trying to catch his breath.

"One if these days maybe we'll fuck outside a bathroom." Valjean kisses his ear.

"Don't get your hopes up." Javert pushes him off.

He cleans himself off with a handful of tissue paper. Valjean’s recovered his towel. He wipes his forehead on his arm and looks at Javert.

“Get your pants on.”

“Stop telling me what to do.” Javert reaches for his jeans.

Valjean just shrugs and goes out into the room. Javert zips up his pants and follows. Seems all he does anymore is follow Valjean out of bathrooms.

Cosette’s sitting on the edge of her bed, playing with a doll. She looks up. “Papa, is it time for breakfast?”

“Yes.” Valjean glances at Javert. "Cosette, go wait outside."

She goes, but not without a second curious look at Javert.

Javert’s still searching for his shoes when Valjean sneaks up behind him and suddenly there’s a gun at his back.

“Valjean,” Javert warns. “What’re you doing?”

“Sit down by the radiator.” Valjean directs, pressing the gun harder into his back.

Javert obeys warily. Valjean reaches into his duffel and takes out a pair of handcuffs.

“Hey, are those my handcuffs?”

"Couldn't let 'em go to waste now, could I?" Valjean tosses the cuffs to him. “Put ‘em on, loop through the radiator.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Valjean lifts the gun. Okay, so he’s serious. Javert snaps one cuff on his left wrist and slides the chain through the radiator bar before closing the cuff on his right. He can’t believe he’s being ordered around by a guy in a towel.

“Good boy.” Valjean drops the towel on the bed and reaches for his pants.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Javert mutters, watching the way Valjean’s jeans cling to his ass. His ass should belong to a better man. It’s a shame it belongs to a criminal.

Valjean pulls on a t-shirt and shoves his shoes on. “Keep quiet, okay?”

“What?” Javert stares at him. "You can't just fuck me and leave me cuffed to a radiator!"

"Wanna bet?" Valjean comes over to check the cuffs. "Be grateful I gave you your pants back."

"Bite me." Javert tries to trip him, but Valjean just dodges out of reach.

"Maybe later." Valjean grins down at him. He's just the type to do it too.

"I'll bring you back some breakfast."

"Sure, you do that." As soon as Valjean’s gone, Javert’s gonna shout the house down.

Valjean hesitates and then he looks around until he comes up with a filthy bandanna, tying it around Javert's mouth.

“Youmfbastard,” Javert spits at him.

Valjean pats his cheek and goes out, locking the motel door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

The café is only across the street from the motel, but Valjean can’t stop looking over at it. Logically he knows there’s no way Javert could get loose, but he can’t shake the feeling that the inspector is going to just appear at any moment. He orders coffee and sits back, watching Cosette placidly eat her croissant and sausage. She’s so easy to please. He wants to buy her everything, so when she steals a piece of bacon from his plate, Valjean just smiles at her.

If Javert’s the cause of him losing Cosette, Valjean will personally break his legs, and then his face.

“Are we taking the man breakfast?” Cosette drinks her cocoa, looking at him over her cup.

“Maybe. What should we take him for breakfast?”

“What does he like?” Cosette asks sensibly.

“I have absolutely no clue.” Valjean stares at his coffee. He hasn’t given Javert a second thought since he got out of prison. The last thing he wants to do is dwell on the guy who arrested him in the first place.

Javert. Honestly, Valjean never thought he’d see him again and then last night of all places. The memory of the bar sends a shot of warmth straight to his groin and he shifts awkwardly under the table. Of all the people in the world, finding Javert on the other side of that glory hole was not what he had expected. Before he opened the door of the stall and found Javert on his knees, Valjean had thought… _this mouth is a gift from God._

“Let’s take him two chocolate croissants and some bacon.” Cosette breaks into his reverie.

“Two, eh?” Valjean rests his arms on the table, waiting to hear her explanation as to why Javert deserves two chocolate croissants.

She shrugs her small shoulders. “He looks hungry.”

Valjean leans across the table. “Is that the only reason?”

“Perhaps if he’s not so very hungry, he will share.” She smiles up at him and Valjean has to laugh.

“Perhaps.” Valjean stands. “Come on.”

At Cosette’s suggestion, Valjean buys two chocolate croissants and an order of bacon, as well as a second coffee.

He lets Cosette look both ways before they cross the street and return to the motel.

* * *

Javert raises his head as he hears the key in the lock. He eyes Valjean and the kid balefully as they enter and close the door.

“Why don’t you go play, eh?” Valjean suggests.

A worried line creases Cosette's forehead “What about,” She whispers.

Valjean crouches down. “If he doesn’t want it, I’ll make sure you get it. Okay?”

“Okay. I guess.” Cosette eyes Javert, and then goes off to bounce on the other bed.

Valjean turns to Javert. “Hungry?” He holds up the bag.

“Sufckmydicfk.” Javert mutters.

Valjean squats next to him and pulls his gag loose. “How about you shut up and eat your breakfast?”

“You gonna me feed by hand?” Javert sneers.

“Maybe you’d like that, eh?” Valjean taunts him back.

He considers the situation, and then he straddles Javert, putting a knee on either side of his body.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Can you try to work on your mouth?” Valjean asks. He presses an arm into Javert’s chest as he works on the cuffs.

Javert grunts. “What, you don’t like the word fuck all of a sudden?” He doesn’t like Valjean being so fucking close to him. Just reminds him of all the mistakes he's made lately.

“It’s a perfectly fine word.” Valjean frees one of his wrists, and tightens his grip against Javert’s chest as he snaps the other cuff around the radiator leg. Finally he sits back and Javert can breathe again.

“Just try to use it less around Cosette okay?”

“I’m sure she’s heard worse than that.” Javert mutters. “Life she’s had.”

Valjean’s hand is around his throat before Javert can say another word. “You say anything of that, one goddamn word, and I will make you wish you’d never been born. Got it?”

Javert sputters and Valjean releases him. He sets the bag and coffee down next to Javert. “Eat your food and keep your fucking mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”

His phone buzzes and Valjean steps into the bathroom to take the call.

Javert rubs at his throat with his free hand, coughing. Jeez, you’d almost think Valjean was sensitive about the fact that his sister had been a hooker. Javert reaches for the coffee, taking a sip. It’s too hot, but he drinks more, letting it burn his throat. You had to toughen up about that. Nothing changed. You couldn’t change shit about where you came from. Javert knows that better than anyone.

His stomach growls at him and he opens the bag to investigate. Pulling out a croissant, he bites into it and chocolate drips down his chin.

Somebody giggles and Javert looks up to see Cosette sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him.

“What?”

“You’ve got chocolate on you.” She points at him.

“Yeah.” Javert wipes his chin on the back of his hand. “So?”

Cosette shrugs. He takes another bite and she just keeps watching him until he’s finished the whole croissant.

“Something you want?” Javert inquires as he eats a piece of bacon.

“So you were hungry.” Cosette says it as though she’s making a point. Javert doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

“Yeah." He eats more bacon. “It’s the best thing for a hangover.”

Cosette just nods, and it occurs to him that maybe hangovers were on the list of things Valjean doesn’t want him to talk to her about. Too late now.

Javert takes out the second croissant and is about to bite into it when he notices Cosette’s face. “What?”

“Nothing.” Cosette folds her hands on her lap.

“What, you want this?” Javert holds up the croissant. There’s no hiding the way her eyes light up at the suggestion. Christ, is Valjean not feeding the kid enough?

“Only if you’re not hungry anymore.” Cosette says very politely.

Javert thinks about this. Valjean’s still in the bathroom, the door’s closed. He leans in, holding the croissant out temptingly. “Tell you what. You know that...toy gun that’s sticking out of Valjean's jacket? You get that for me and you can have the croissant.”

Cosette hesitates.

“And the rest of the bacon.” What kid is going to turn that down?

Cosette sighs. “No.”

“What?”

“I can’t do that.” Cosette says.

“Fine.” Javert leans back. Obviously Valjean warned her about him. Big deal. So what? Cosette’s just sitting there, staring at the carpet. He can’t handle it. “Look, just eat the croissant already?”

Cosette brightens up. “Truly?"

“Yeah.” He holds it out to her, and she takes it, her hand touching his for barely a second.

Cosette settles back on the bed to eat the croissant. Javert just drinks his coffee and watches her.

“But I’m keeping the rest of the bacon.”

* * *

Valjean finally comes out of the bathroom, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He eyes Cosette who’s licking chocolate off her fingers, and Javert who’s finishing his coffee.

“I see you got your croissant.” Valjean sits down on the bed, lifting her onto his lap. “Was it good?”

“Delicious.” Cosette kisses the side of his bearded chin and Valjean laughs.

“Maybe if you fed her better, she wouldn’t have to go begging.” Javert mutters.

Valjean frowns, but Cosette speaks before he can. “I didn't beg it. You gave it to me.”

“Did he now?” Valjean glance at Javert. “What else happened?”

Javert tenses, but Cosette, innocent as the day as she was born, says, “Nothing, Papa.”

Well, at least she didn’t rat him out. That’s something, though she should have told Valjean what he’d tried to do. It’s clearly Valjean’s criminal influence making her more devious than she'd ever have been on her own.

Valjean suspects something because he says almost sternly. “Cosette, has he been...unpleasant?” It's not the first word that comes to mind when he thinks of Javert, but he can't use any of those around her.

Cosette blinks at him. “No, he’s nice.”

Frankly, Javert finds Valjean’s laughter insulting.

Valjean kisses the top of her head and sets her down. “Why don’t you play for a bit, and then later I’ll take you for a walk. Right now I have to talk to Javert.”

Cosette goes, but she’s reluctant.

Valjean waits till she’s settled in the corner with her doll and then he looks at Javert. “What have you been saying to her?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously you said something because apparently she thinks you’re nice.”

Javert leans his head back, scratching at his jaw. “Maybe I am nice and you just never noticed.”

“Yeah, I remember you being really nice when you arrested me.” Valjean says sarcastically. Maybe that accounts for him not really minding having to keep Javert cuffed right now. That memory of being shoved over the front of a police car, having his rights read to him as the handcuffs were fastened roughly on his wrists.

Javert shrugs slightly. “You deserved it. You broke the law.” He glances over Cosette. “And you’re doing it again. You know you’re gonna get years for this. Kidnapping is a serious offense.”

“Shut up.” Valjean clasps his hands together, staring at them worriedly.

“Even if you think you can just keep running, they’ll catch up with you eventually.” They always did.

Valjean grins in spite of himself. “Don’t you mean you’ll catch up with me eventually?”

“Not my case this time.” Javert shifts position slightly. He’s starting to get a crick in his back. “I don’t work kidnappings.”

“I didn’t kidnap her.” Valjean is vehement. “I just couldn’t leave her there.”

“That’s technically kidnapping.” Javert is compelled to point this out. “Just because you didn’t like where she was, doesn’t mean you can just take her away from it and make her live on the run.” What kind of life is that for a kid?

"We haven't been on the run all this time.” Valjean’s defensive. “We were doing just fine, I’ll have you know. I had a good job, assistant manager at a factory, Cosette was going to school. Everything was fine. And then some good citizen thinks he figures me out and we got into a fight and it wasn't safe to stay." He gets up, going to look out the window.

Javert tilts his head up, looking at him. “So now what? You’re just going to stay here forever.”

“Not forever.” Valjean lets the curtain fall closed, resting his hands on his hips. “Just for a few days.”

That makes it sound like he has some sort of plan. The phone call had to be about that. Javert needs to focus on that, figure out what Valjean’s planning.

“What about me?”

Valjean sighs. “Yeah. You weren’t exactly part of the plan.” He turns, leaning against the radiator.

“You left my car at the bar.”

“Sorry about that.” Valjean’s eyes are back on Cosette as she plays.

“It better not get stolen.”

“Is that really your main concern here?”

“No my main concern is that I need to piss after that coffee.” Javert stands suddenly, dragging the cuff awkwardly up the radiator loop. “So…”

“I could ask you to swear to me you wouldn’t try to escape.”

“Would you believe me if I swore that?”

“Why not? You’re a man of your word.” That’s something about Javert he’s always respected.

It would be so easy to take advantage of this, but Javert’s never broken his word, not even a criminal. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Thought as much.” Valjean unlocks the cuff from the radiator and takes Javert’s other wrist in his hands. “You’re far too honorable for the police force, Inspector.” The cuff snaps into place.

He’s holding Javert’s hands like he’s about to kiss them. Javert pulls free. “And you’re too soft for a crook.”

Valjean shrugs. “We all have our failings.”


	5. Chapter 5

Valjean goes through the whole process of cuffing his wrists together again before he lets Javert go into the bathroom.  
  
Javert closes the door and leans against it. It’s a relief to be alone. He could take Valjean. He’s not sure why he hasn’t really made his move yet, except he doesn’t really want to beat the guy up in front of his niece. Not unless he has to. If he has to, he will, but he’d rather not. It will definitely take considerable force to bring Valjean to justice, he knows that much.   
  
What he needs to do is get his hands on a phone and tell his superiors where they are. There’s a phone by the bed, all he has to do is get Valjean to leave him uncuffed long enough to get to it.  
  
He pisses quickly and washes his hands. In the mirror his face looks haggard, his eyes bleary. He stinks like the bar and _ugh_. The faint slick feel of the lotion still lingers in him, and he’s disgusted with everything in his life right now.  
  
Javert steps out of the bathroom. Valjean’s sitting on the bed, watching Cosette who’s playing at his feet.  
  
“So what now?”  
  
“Now we wait.” Valjean tells him. He glances at the radiator and Javert fights the urge to run.  
  
“Sit down.” Valjean tells him, nodding at the other bed.  
  
Javert sits. “Any more coffee?” If he can appeal to Valjean’s soft side, maybe this’ll go easier than he hopes.  
  
“I give you more coffee, you’re just gonna have to use the bathroom again.” Valjean points out.  
  
Cosette giggles and Javert refrains from pointing out that needing to urinate is a totally natural thing after drinking liquid, there's no need to fucking giggle.  
  
“Yeah, well, what I really need is a shower.” It’s just an observation. He doesn't expect Valjean to do anything about it.  
  
But Valjean nods in agreement. “Actually you do.” He nods at the bathroom. “Go on then,”  
  
“With these on?” Javert raises his hands. He can’t help wondering what Cosette thinks of his hands being cuffed all the time. She certainly doesn’t seem bothered by it.  
  
Valjean considers his options. “Get in the bathroom.”  
  
He follows Javert, closing the door behind them. “Get your clothes off."  
  
Javert pulls at his shirt awkwardly, unbuttoning it just enough so that he can slip it over his head. His jeans and briefs go next. He pulls off his socks and now Valjean’s ogling him openly.  
  
“Like what you see?” Javert drawls. He knows Valjean does; why the fuck is he even asking.  
  
Valjean just shakes his head. He’s got no words for seeing Javert naked. The closest thing to an articulate response is just _damn_.  
  
“In the shower.”  
  
“We’re not fucking in the shower.” Javert tells him, stepping into the shower.  
  
“You wish.” Valjean tells him. Okay, so he wishes too. Now that he has the visual, he wants the feel of naked Javert too. Naked Javert on his knees, sucking him off as the water falls over his hair, soaking down his back. His cock stirs and he forces himself to remain focused.  
  
He steps into the shower too and Javert glares at him. “Fuck off.”  
  
“Hold your horses.” Valjean grabs his left wrist. Unlocking it, he cuffs it to the hand railing along the wall. “There.”  
  
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Javert stares at him.  
  
“Enjoy your shower.” Valjean grabs Javert's discarded clothes and leaves the room. Javert can reach the taps and the soap. He’s got everything he needs.  
  
His phone buzzes and Valjean checks his messages. _Call soon._  
  
He eyes Cosette who’s looking at the picture book he brought with them. He only had time to grab the one and she’s read it half a dozen times. The shop next to the café might have something else to distract her and they need supplies anyway. On his way there he can dump Javert's clothes at the laundry.  
  
He shoves the pile of clothes in a grocery bag. “Cosette, can you be good and play here in the room if I go across the street for a few minutes?”  
  
“What about the man?” Cosette asks.  
  
“He’ll be fine. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Valjean kisses her head and goes, locking the motel room behind him.  
  
 *  *  *  
  
Since he’s not going anywhere, Javert takes his time with the shower. It’s good to finally get clean. He soaks his hair, letting the water wash over his face and neck down to his chest. It’s awkward washing with one hand cuffed, but he manages as best as he can, scrubbing the smell of the bar and Valjean from his skin with quick motions.  
  
His ass still aches as he washes himself. There are bruises along his lower back and across his ass from the bathroom sink. It’s a reminder of his recent dumbass decisions and Javert tells himself – _that's it, no more_. He needs to get out of this situation, not get fucked again.  
  
The door opens and he pokes his head around the curtain to tell Valjean to fuck off. Instead he finds Cosette settling herself on the top of the toilet seat.  
  
“Hey, get out,” Javert tries to hide behind the shower curtain.  
  
“What’re you doing?”  
  
“What’s it look like I’m doing? Taking a damn shower. Get out.”  
  
“I talk to Papa while he showers. He tells me stories.”  
  
“That’s highly inappropriate.” Javert shivers as the water starts going lukewarm. “And you wouldn’t like the stories I have to tell.”  
  
Cosette waits patiently.  
  
Javert swears helplessly, and then switches the water off. He glares at Cosette from behind the shower curtain. “Get me a towel?”  
  
“Say please.”  
  
Javert grits his teeth. “Get me a towel, please.”  
  
“Tell me a story.”  
  
“Hey, I said please!”  
  
Cosette’s eyes don’t blink. Clearly she’s not going anywhere until he comes up with a story. Javert runs a hand through his sopping wet hair and tries to think.  
  
“Uh. Once upon a time. There was a… woman who was really pregnant, and when you’re pregnant, you want to eat strange food all the time so she makes her idiot husband sneak next door into a witch’s garden, which goes to show you how stupid these people were to begin with because who lives next door to a witch? Anyway, so she wants this weed, or plant, something from the garden, and the idiot goes to get it, only the witch catches him and makes him swear to give her whatever she desires, and he promises, because like I said, idiot, and the witch lets have the plant and he goes home. Everything’s fine for a while, but then the woman has the baby, and the witch shows up, demanding the kid as her part of the bargain, and they have to let her take the kid because a bargain’s a bargain.”  
  
He eyes Cosette. “So the moral of that story is don’t steal and you won’t get your kids taken away from you. Now can I have a towel?”  
  
Cosette doesn’t move. “What happens next?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“What about the baby?”  
  
“She grew up and had really weird hair. Now for the love of christ, Cosette, will you get me a towel?”  
  
Cosette sighs. “I think the story is sad.” She reaches for the doorknob.  
  
“Yeah, well, life’s sad.” Javert mutters, shivering. He’s stuck in a fucking shower and the hot water’s run out, and he just had to tell a kid a fucking fairy tale and he still doesn’t have a towel.  
  
Cosette looks up at him. “Are you sad?”  
  
Dumbfounded, Javert can only stare down at her. Then he shrugs. “I’m not particularly happy, but I’m doing all right. It is what it is, you know what I mean.”  
  
Cosette looks at him with wistful eyes. “Papa’s sad too.”  
  
Javert’s hand tightens on the shower curtain. “Go get me a towel, or your papa, just…go. Okay?” When Cosette doesn’t move, he shouts, “GODDAMNIT, GO!” and she flees at last, leaving Javert alone.  
  
 *  *  *  
  
“Hey, what the hell was that all about?” Valjean steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “Don’t yell at her.”  
  
“Then don’t leave me cuffed to the fucking shower.” Javert glowers at him.  
  
“Why? I kinda like you like this.” Valjean smirks at him.  
  
Javert flips him off with his free hand. “She just told me you were sad. I don’t need to hear that crap.”  
  
“She said what?” Valjean reaches for the door.  
  
“No, no, come back here, Valjean.” Javert shouts. “Valjean, get me a fucking towel.”  
  
The door closes. Javert leans his forehead against the tiled wall and sighs very softly to himself.  
  
After a while, he has little compunction about pissing down the shower drain.  
  
*  *  *  
  
Valjean finds Cosette sitting in the corner between her bed and the wall.  
  
“Hey. What’s wrong?”  
  
Cosette inspects her fingers, not looking up at him. “Did you make a deal with a witch?”  
  
“What?” Valjean sinks down to sit next her. It’s a tight squeeze. His knees press into the side of the bed.  
  
“Is that why I was taken away from Mama?”  
  
 _He will fucking murder Javert_. “Cosette, whatever he said in there, it’s not true, okay.”  
  
“So life isn’t sad?” Cosette looks up at him, waiting for an answer.  
  
“Javert said that?” Valjean frowns. Honestly he’s never given two shits about the inspector’s life. You don’t feel sorry for the guy who arrests you and puts you in prison. He can still remember being shoved against a wall, arms yanked behind his back, all the while proclaiming his innocence desperately.  
  
And the first time he heard that voice, cool, impersonal, professional in his ear. “Tell it to the judge.” He heard it again in court when Javert testified at his trial. Valjean had grown to hate the sound of Javert’s voice.  
  
“Papa?”  
  
Valjean manages to free himself from the reveries of the past and smiles down at her. “Life has sad things in it, Cosette, but it has happy things too, and what you must do is remember the happy ones and think of them when you’re feeling sad.”  
  
Cosette leans her head against his shoulder. “Like how I miss Mama…but I’m happy to be here with you?”  
  
Valjean leans his head back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears threatening to fall. “Yeah. Something like that.”


	6. Chapter 6

Valjean gives Javert a towel and then cuffs him one-handed to headboard of the bed. Javert sits up, brushing his damp hair back from his face. “Where exactly are my clothes?”  
  
“At the laundry.” Valjean’s reading something on his laptop.  
  
“Fantastic.” Javert leans back against the headboard with a sigh.   
  
Cosette curls up on the foot of Valjean’s bed, switching on the TV. “Papa, is it time for lunch yet?”  
  
“Almost.” Valjean doesn’t look up.  
  
“I’m with the kid.” Javert speaks up. “Food.”  
  
Valjean just glares at him but gets up.   
  
“I’ll help.” Cosette jumps up to dig through the bag Valjean brought back from the shop. “Papa, what’s this?”  
  
Javert looks up in time to see the flush rising in Valjean’s cheeks.  
  
“Uh, nothing, that’s just…for me.” Valjean grabs what’s in Cosette’s hand, but not until after Javert sees it’s lube _and_ condoms. He smirks at the thought of Valjean buying them, even though the thought of Valjean just presuming that there’s even a chance of the items getting used annoys him.  
  
“Awfully presumptuous,” he says aloud.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Magnum, I assume.”  
  
“I told you to be quiet.” Valjean cuts savagely into sausage he bought for their sandwiches.   
  
Javert just chuckles, but, “If you think I’m just going to let you…” he eyes Cosette a moment before continuing his sentence, “discuss criminal procedures with me again,”  
  
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it then?” Valjean mutters.  
  
“What’s criminal procedures?” Cosette inquires.   
  
“Something your papa is very good at.” Javert tells her.  
  
Valjean’s glare really is quite ferocious. Javert can’t help wondering if it worked on other people. He thinks about what he just said. “I meant literally, not,”  
  
“Just shut up.” Valjean barks and for once Javert does.  
  
Valjean makes them each a sandwich and returns to his laptop. Cosette finds some old cartoons on TV. As they eat though, Valjean’s eyes occasionally drift over Javert’s near-naked form. Sitting up, his towel only comes to mid-thigh, so fucking thin, it’s practically indecent. Good thing Cosette is still too young to notice things like that because _god_.  
  
Javert takes a bite of sandwich and stares back at him. He shifts under Valjean’s heavy gaze and the motion causes the towel to press more closely against the curve of his cock.  
  
Valjean swallows and tries to focus on his laptop.

*  *  *  
  
When he’s done eating however it’s even worse. Javert’s stretched out on the bed, one arm behind his head as he watches whatever Cosette has on. That towel might as well not even be there. Valjean’s eyes travel over his bare feet up his calves and then his thighs, oh god, the things he wants to do to Javert’s thighs. That resting bulge under the towel, and the dips of his hips… Valjean moves his laptop down a fraction of an inch on his lap. Then there’s Javert’s chest and his nipples. Valjean takes a deep breath. He’s supposed to be focusing and instead all he can think of is fucking Javert through the motel mattress till he can’t walk.  
  
“But why does he keep chasing him?” Cosette breaks into his concentration. It takes Valjean a moment to realize she's not talking to him, but to Javert.  
  
“Cause he’s stupid.” Javert tells her.  
  
“But why?”  
  
“Cause it’s the only thing he knows how to do.”   
  
Valjean looks up and realizes they’re discussing one of those old cartoons with the roadrunner, and the coyote. Javert glances over at him, and then away.  
  
Cosette switches over to another channel, making excited noises when she finds Madeleine. Javert can’t help pointing out that even though Madeleine is clearly a mischievous child it’s the influence of Pepito the Bad Hat that makes her worse.  
  
“I like him.” Cosette confides in him. “I like his hat.”  
  
“Yeah,” Javert has to admit. “It’s a nice hat.” He stretches his shoulders slightly, and the towel shifts again.  
  
“I’ll be right back.” Valjean leaves the room as quickly as he can without drawing attention.

*  *  *  
  
Once he’s out of the motel room, he takes a deep, ragged breath. He can’t take this, any of this. What was he thinking bringing Javert along? He should have left him in the bar and put as many miles between them as was possible.  
  
There’s nobody else around up and down the porch strip of motel doors. Valjean lights a cigarette. One quick smoke, that’ll steady him and he’ll be able to go back in there without making a damn fool of himself.   
  
As he smokes Cosette’s words return to him. _“So life isn’t sad?”_  
  
Valjean rests his head against the post, his own grief overwhelming him once more. “I’m _trying_ , Fantine. Fuck, I’m really trying.” He’s doing his best, but at times everything just feels so hopeless, how’s he supposed to manage?   
  
Angrily, he wipes at his eyes so there will be no trace of tears when he goes back inside.

*  *  *  
  
Javert watches him when he comes back inside. There’s something off, Valjean looks almost despondent as he checks his phone.  
  
“When the fuck do I get my clothes back?” Javert gives him the chance to snap at him, and Valjean rises to the bait.  
  
“When they’re fucking done.” Valjean says, the words short and sharp. He glances at Cosette, but she’s not paying any attention, focusing on having her doll watch TV with her.  
  
“And when will that be?” Javert pushes the matter testingly.   
  
“You really want that gag back?” Valjean shoves his phone in his pocket. He crosses his arms, facing Javert. “I could put you back in the shower too.”  
  
Javert sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You could try.”  
  
Valjean wants desperately to pretend this isn’t affecting him, but Javert’s hair is drying around his face in light waves, and his bare chest rises and falls determinedly with each breath. Valjean’s dick swells in his jeans and Javert’s eyes drift downward to his crotch.   
  
He smirks up at Valjean. “Or maybe you’re doing this on purpose.”  
  
“One more word and I will gag you.” Valjean warns. Cosette’s looking at him now, not worried, just curious.   
  
“I’d like to see you do it.” Javert taunts.   
  
Valjean straightens his shoulders, and abruptly, Javert gets the sense that he’s pushed it too far.  
  
“Cosette, go in the bathroom for a moment.”   
  
Cosette goes obediently, closing the door behind her. Valjean fetches the gag from where he left it on the windowsill.

Javert stands. “You’re not fucking gagging me again.”  
  
“You should have kept your mouth shut then.” Valjean advances.   
  
Javert strikes out with his free hand, but Valjean blocks the blow. He grabs Javert’s arm, pulling it tight as he forces him back on the bed on his back. Straddling Javert, he takes the opportunity to recuff his free hand. Then he sits back, surveying the indignant inspector struggling underneath him.  
  
“Fucking get off!” Javert bucks his hips, but that only serves to remind Valjean that he’s mostly naked. His cock brushes against the bulge under Javert’s towel and he grins. Slowly, Valjean rubs his crotch against Javert’s, teasing the fuck out of him.  
  
“Valjean,” now Javert’s the one warning him and it’s Valjean who doesn’t care.  
  
“What’re you gonna do?” He does it again, pushing hard, eliciting a groan from Javert. “Huh?” A third time, and the towel pulls free, leaving Javert naked under him. Javert’s cock strains upward and Valjean just grinds against him until Javert’s panting and squirming.   
  
“You’re a bastard.” Javert hisses.  
  
“Papa?”   
  
“Damnit,” Valjean twists around to see her opening the bathroom door an inch. Hurriedly, he pulls the towel up to cover Javert. “It’s okay, Cosette. We’re just...wrestling.” Inwardly he groans as she comes out of the bathroom.  
  
“That’s the lamest fucking excuse I’ve ever heard.” Javert glowers at him. Valjean elbows him in the ribs, resisting the urge to squeeze that insistent bulge that’s not going anywhere under the towel.  
  
Cosette considers this. “Like in that movie you were watching that one time?” She offers at last.  
  
Javert raises an eyebrow as Valjean chokes. “No, not like that.”  
  
“Oh.” Cosette clutches her doll. “It looks like that.”  
  
Javert fears Valjean will die of choking.  
  
“Cosette, go back in the bathroom for a minute, and then I’ll tell you when to come out.”   
  
“Soon?” Cosette asks.  
  
“Soon.” Valjean promises. When the door closes, he buries his face in his hands, half torn between dying of laughter and dying from embarrassment.   
  
“That movie?” Javert inquires.   
  
Valjean lowers his hands. “She walked in on me watching porn once. It was not my fault.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of your fault. She’s too young to see shit like that.” Javert sits up and the towel falls from his hips. “Fuck.”  
  
“Well, excuse me for being human.” Valjean runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I can just run down to the bar every time I want to get off.” He rubs his hands down his face tiredly, like he’s exhausted.  
  
Javert tells himself he doesn’t want to ease the exhaustion from Valjean’s face. That would be ridiculous. This whole fucking situation is ridiculous.


	7. Chapter 7

Valjean takes a minute to get his shit together. Then he wraps the towel around Javert’s hips, pinching him until he moves enough for Valjean to tuck the towel around his ass.

“I’ll get your clothes in a little bit.”

“Sure you will.”

Valjean ignores him. He raps on the bathroom door. “Cosette, you can come out now.”

He sets to making coffee. He could use a cup, or a pot at least. Cosette comes out of the bathroom at last. She eyes Javert, and then Valjean who smiles at her.

He pours a cup for himself, and then one for Javert as the cop has been staring at it with longing eyes ever since it started percolating.

“Here.” Valjean hands a cup to Javert and carries his own over to the table where he left his laptop.

Javert grimaces. “This is fucking terrible coffee.”

“You’re a cop. You’re supposed to drink bad coffee.”

“That shows how bad this really is.” Javert takes another sip and shudders. “Christ.”

“Drink it, or dump it, I don’t care.” Valjean takes a sip of his own. It’s bad all right, but it’s still coffee.

* * *

Cosette bounds up on the bed, jolting Javert who spills coffee over his hand. “Fuck!”

“Cosette, don’t jump on the bed!”

Javert sucks at the coffee on his hand. Cosette looks so abashed as she slinks off the bed. “It’s okay. I’ll live.”

“When’d you get so pragmatic?” Valjean types something, and reaches for his coffee.

“Always been.” Javert scratches at his chest. His hair is completely dry now, and he can feel the breeze waft under his towel every time he shifts his legs. At least his hard-on has finally faded. Fucking Valjean, fucking cock-tease.

He glances over at Valjean, busy at the laptop. What’s he up to? Why are they hanging around this crummy motel? He’d expected Valjean to dump him somewhere and move on with Cosette. Instead here they are.

At last Valjean finishes his coffee. He looks up as though remembering Javert’s presence. “Right. I’ll get the laundry now.”

First he digs into his jacket pocket and comes up with the set of blocks he bought at the store. “Cosette, here.”

“What is it?” She puts her hands on the table, bouncing up on her toes. “What is it, Papa?”

“I got you some blocks. See, you can build a house or a castle, or a train.” He helps her take the blocks out of the package and then pulls his jacket on. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Along with Javert’s clothing, he had dropped some of Cosettes and a t-shirt for himself as well some boxers. He pays for the laundry service, and buys some chocolate from the vending machine outside the building.

* * *

This is his chance. Javert leans over, straining to reach the telephone on the bedside table. If he can just reach the phone before Valjean gets back (no movement at the door), everything will be fine. His arms is practically stretched out of his socket.

Cosette's just lying on the other bed on her stomach, kicking her heels in the air, watching him.

"Don't suppose you could help me."

She shakes her head and Javert swears, stretching harder. At last he reaches the phone, dragging it over the table to him. Fuck yes. He puts the receiver to his ear. He’s going to get a whole army of cops and Valjean’s going to regret the day he was fucking born.

He starts dialing, only to realize there’s no dial tone. The phone is dead in his hands. He pulls at it, and the cord comes up in his hands. It’s been cut through.

Javert stares at it. “Fuckass Valjean.” He drops the phone back on the table. Well, he’ll just have to come up with Plan B then. If only he had a Plan B.

“Do you want to help me build a castle?” Cosette asks.

Javert leans his head back the headboard. “Sure. Why the hell not?” It’s not like he has anything else to do.

He watches her as Cosette carries all the blocks over to the bed. It takes her three trips, but she works quite quickly for one with such tiny arms.

She orders the construction of the castle; Javert’s just the laborer here. He builds a tower and a wall around the tower, and Cosette tells him the story of the princess who’s living in the tower, and he just listens and nods when it’s expected of him.

* * *

The door opens and Valjean comes in with the laundry bag. He eyes the castle on the bed, Cosette squatting on the bed and Javert telling her that windows are built small on purpose so that arrows can’t get through them.

“Cosette, put your blocks on the other bed.”

“But we’ve built a castle!” Cosette protests.

“Fine,” Valjean sets his bag down. “But now Javert has to get dressed.”

For once Javert agrees with something Valjean says.

Valjean unlocks one of his wrists and holds up the key in one hand, and the gun in the other one. “Unlock the cuff.” He hands the key to Javert who does it.

“Come on.”

Cosette complains as the bed rocks as Javert shifts his weight.

Valjean motions him into the bathroom and gives him his pile of folded clothes. He allows Javert to close the door all but an inch. He can see a flash of skin as Javert drops the towel and reaches for his underwear.

Javert takes the opportunity to piss again as long as he’s in the bathroom, splashing water over his face when he’s done.

When he’s completely dressed again, all but his leather jacket, he finally exits the bathroom. Will Valjean cuff him to the bed again, or the radiator? Javert rubs at his wrists, waiting to hear the verdict.

Valjean just nods at the bed.

Javert sinks down upon the bed with a silent sigh. There are worse imprisonments, but he’s getting fucking bored of being handcuffed all the time. Valjean cuffs his right hand again and returns to his laptop.

Cosette looks at him hopefully.

Javert sighs again. “What do you want to build this time?”


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Valjean stops working on whatever he’s working on, Javert’s helped build a castle, a fortress of solitude, a palace and a spaceship. Now Cosette is tidying the blocks away into their box, neat and precise.

Valjean shuts the laptop down and gets up. “Cosette, what shall we make for dinner?” He scoops her up in his arms.

“Crepes!” Cosette claps her hand together excitedly.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Valjean asks her very seriously, “You wouldn’t rather have pasta?”

“Crepes!”

“Very well,” he kisses her cheek. “Then we shall make crepes.” He swings her around to cling to his neck like a monkey, carrying her over to the tiny kitchen area.

Javert leans back against the pillows, watching them. He might be an ex-con and a kidnapper, but Valjean does have a way about him with the kid. He lets Cosette get the milk and eggs out of the fridge and sits her up on the counter to mix them together.

In another life, he’d have been a good dad. But the minute Javert gets out of here, he’s going to arrest him, and nothing’s going to change that, no matter how much he likes Valjean’s dick.

* * *

Cosette wrinkles her nose in the direction of Javert. “Does he get crepes if he doesn’t help?”

“I don’t know.” Valjean drops an egg into the bowl. “Does he?”

“He could wash up.” Cosette suggests.

“Excellent idea.” Valjean glances at Javert. “Did you hear that you’re on dish duty after dinner?”

“Can’t wait.” Javert stretches out on the bed and closes his eyes.

* * *

When the crepes are done, Cosette brings a plate over to Javert. Grudgingly Javert has to admit Valjean’s a good cook. He eats every last bite and licks the powdered sugar from his fingers.

Valjean pretends he doesn't notice.

* * *

After Cosette’s eaten as many crepes as her stomach can hold, Valjean finally unlocks the cuffs and lets Javert start to wash the assortment of dishes. As much as he resents assignment of the menial labor, Javert’s glad of the chance to stretch his legs for a bit.

Valjean glances over to check on Cosette who’s busy playing under the table. He leans against the sink as Javert washes the dishes. “So I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh here we go,” Javert sighs heavily. “What do you want now?” Valjean’s only a few feet away, the gun in his hand. He could make a move now. He rinses a plate off and thinks about it.

“Earlier…why’d you tell her life’s sad?”

“Why does she think you’re sad?” Javert counters. He doesn’t really care whether Valjean’s sad or not, but he’s not delving into his personal history with a ex-con.

Valjean shrugs. “Kids get ideas sometimes.”

“You’re trying to tell me a kid who just lost her mom to cancer isn’t supposed to think life’s sad?”

Valjean eyes him curiously. “How did you know my sister died of cancer?”

Javert sets a bowl aside to dry. “You think something happens to one of the guys I put away that I don’t know about? You were doing fine on parole until then. Why the fuck did you ruin it all when it came to that?”

Valjean just shakes his head. “You wouldn’t get it.” He glances over at Cosette and Javert hesitates, then lunges at him, only for Valjean to twist under his grip and shove him hard up against the sink. Javert grunts as Valjean’s grip tightens on his arm, and the gun is pressed against his crotch.

Javert freezes.

“That was a stupid move on your part.” Valjean whispers. He glances over at Cosette who miraculously hasn’t noticed this little exchange.

“You’re the one who took the handcuffs off.” Javert swallows. “So now what?”

Valjean pulls his arm up tighter and Javert winces. The barrel of the gun is right against his balls and from the way Valjean is looking at him, Javert’s not entirely sure he’s going to get out of this with them intact.

Valjean leans in. “You know what I’d like to do you?”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Javert spreads his legs a little wider; the gun isn’t going anywhere.

Valjean smiles pleasantly. “If Cosette weren’t here, I’d shove you to your knees and stick this gun in your mouth and make you suck it. Just like you sucked my cock that night. You look so good on your knees, your mouth was _made_ for cocksucking.”

Javert doesn’t thrust against that gun; it would be idiotic. No, his hips stay completely still.

“But for now,” Valjean rubs the barrel of the gun along the curve of Javert’s cock, hard against his jeans, “You’re going to get handcuffed to the bed again.”

He steps back. “Get over there.”

“Asshole.” Javert settles on the bed, giving himself a quick squeeze. Christ, he’s hard as a rock now. Valjean just raises the gun and makes a tsk-tsk noise. Javert raises his hands. “You started it.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I did.” Valjean cuffs both his hands this time and sits back. “And now I’m going to take a shower, and jerk off, and you get to stay here with your hard-on.” He grins and puts the gun away on top of the fridge. “Cosette, I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

“Okay.”

Valjean steps into the bathroom. Javert glares at him and Valjean flips him off before closing the door.

Only then does he dare admit how close that was. Yes, he’d restrained Javert quickly enough, but what if he hadn’t? It was a good reminder. He’d have to be more careful about letting Javert move around. He can’t take another risk like that.

Valjean strips off his clothes quickly, turning on the shower. He’d said the thing about jerking off just to fuck with Javert, but now that he’s here and he remembers how Javert felt when he’d shoved him up against the sink. He hadn’t been joking about that. Damn, Javert looked good on his knees.

His cock hardens and Valjean takes himself in hand.

He should have brought Javert in here, cuffed his hands behind his back, keeping Javert there on the shower floor while he fucks his mouth. Valjean groans, jerking himself off in quick, eager strokes. Javert would just take it so goddamn eagerly like he had in that filthy toilet, and Valjean would fuck his mouth until he gagged on Valjean’s spunk.

That visual is just too much for him and his cock jerks in his hand, the mess lost in the shower spray.

Valjean cleans his hand off and turns, ducking his head under the shower. Fucking hell, just thinking about that had been good. Imagine if he did it for real.

 _Enough of that_ , he tells himself sternly. If that attempt on Javert’s part was anything to go by, Valjean had to keep an eye on him at all times, and keep his hands off.

* * *

Javert closes his eyes, listening to the sound of the shower. He can’t help wondering if Valjean is actually jerking off in there. It’d be totally like him to do that.

The bed jolts and he winces.

“Tell me a story.”

“I don’t have any more.” Javert keeps his eyes closed. “Besides Valjean said he’d tell you a bedtime story.” He’s the parental figure here. Let him tell the stories.

“Come on.” Cosette coaxes.

Javert struggles to think of another story. He can’t remember the last movie he saw. The last book he read? Magazine, more likely. So back to the fairy tales. Fine. Javert opens his eyes at last. “Once upon a time, there was a little blonde curl with curls like yours who wandered through the woods until she came to a house where three bears lived.”

“Two bears.” Cosette interjects.

“Pretty sure it’s three.” Javert tells her. He may not know everything, but he’s fairly sure there were three bears.

“We only need two.” Cosette tells him firmly.

“Okay.” Javert shrugs. “Two bears and she goes into the house and there’s two bowls of porridge. And one of them is too hot, and one’s too cold, so…she dumps them out and makes herself some toast instead.”

“Toast is good.” Cosette agrees.

Javert nods. “Anyway, the two bears came home and…”

“They adopted her.” Cosette says way too cheerfully.

“What?”

“And they kept her and told her stories, and never went away again.”

Javert looks at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cosette’s stare defies him to object to this alternate ending and Javert just shrugs. He doesn’t give a fuck if Goldilocks gets adopted by two bears. It’s nothing to do with him.

* * *

Valjean comes out of the bathroom in just his boxers and Javert tells himself that his lust has everything to do with the abuse he’s been subjected to lately, and nothing to do with the way Valjean looks so fucking good in just his boxers. Christ, his legs.

“Cosette, it’s time to brush your teeth and wash your face.” Valjean ushers her into the bathroom and helps her get ready for bed.

“What about me?” Javert asks as Valjean’s tucking Cosette in. “Do I have to sleep in my jeans?”

“Maybe that’s what you deserve after that little stunt.” Valjean goes to get Cosette a glass of water.

Javert groans. “Valjean, come on.” If he has to spend all night with his dick rubbing against his jeans, he’ll go fucking insane.

“Ask me nicely.” Valjean takes Cosette’s water over to her, setting it down on the bedside table. She’s halfway asleep already, head curled up on the pillow. He presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Pretty fucking please.”

Javert doesn’t think Valjean is going to give in, but finally Valjean comes over to him, and looks at him. “You can’t be trusted out of handcuffs.”

“So?”

“So I’ll have to take them off for you.” Valjean unzips Javert’s jeans and slowly, inches them off his body, draping them over a chair. Javert’s still hard and Valjean can’t resist running a hand over that length.

“Come on, “ Javert pulls at the cuffs. “You know you want to get me off.” He’s pretty sure this is the kind of thing you go to hell for, considering the kid sleeping in the bed a few feet away, but he doesn’t really care.

Valjean does actually want that, but he’s not going to give Javert the satisfaction of knowing it. He just pats the bulge and gets up, pulling the blankets over Javert’s lower half. “Sleep well.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re running out of insults.” Valjean switches off the light and get into bed. Cosette murmurs in her sleep but doesn’t wake. In their brief time together, she’s always been a sound sleeper. He presses a another gentle kiss to her hair and closes his eyes.

Javert lies there awake in the darkness. Even if he wasn’t handcuffed and hard he’d have a hard time falling asleep just now. All his life he’s wanted very little, tried to attain only good things. Do his job, be proud of his work. To have the name of Javert spoken with respect in the police force. And now here’s Valjean fucking everything up.

Javert groans silently.

How the fuck is he supposed to get out of this?


	9. Chapter 9

Valjean can’t sleep. Every minute passes in slow motion. He can hear Cosette’s soft breathing, the ticking of the clock, the faint drip of the shower; he must have left the tap on slightly. And then there’s Javert, just a dark shape on the other bed. There’s the faint pull of the handcuffs every time he moves position, the shift of the bed as his body tries to get comfortable.

Valjean squeezes his eyes shut. Under that blanket, from the waist down, Javert’s only got his boxers on. Easy access.

No.

Yes.

No.

_Shit._

Cosette’s still sound asleep. Valjean checks just to make sure, but she’s got her arm wrapped around her doll, dreaming sweetly.

He should stay in bed.

Instead, he pulls the covers back and slips out to crouch by the other bed. Javert looks as though he’s sleeping peacefully for once. For a few minutes, Valjean just watches him sleep. The v of Javert’s shirt reveals the promise of a scattering of light hair. Javert’s chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his breathing. He looks different in his sleep. _Younger maybe_ , Valjean thinks. He looks like someone Valjean would want to meet in a bar and take home with him.

*  *  * _  
_

_“Javert.”_

Someone’s whispering his name. Javert opens an eye. He’s finally drifted off, and now here’s Valjean sitting on the side of his bed staring at him.

“Javert.”

“What?”

“Still want to get off?”

 _Say no,_ Javert's brain tells him. _Some day you’re going to have to arrest him and lock him back up and this will all blow up in your face._ _They’re gonna ask questions like_ : _How many times did you suck the felon’s dick, Inspector? Answer: Only once, but I let him fuck me multiple times.)_

 _Say yes for fuck’s sake_ , screams his dick.

Fucking Valjean. Javert opens his mouth to tell him to go back to his own bed. “Uncuff me first.”

Valjean’s hand moves up over his hip. “One hand?”

Javert grumbles, but finally agrees. “Fine.”

Valjean unlocks his left hand, “On your side.” He pulls his boxers off and slides under the covers. Javert grunts, moving over. His right arm aches slightly, but now Valjean’s stretched out along his back, all naked and hard and easing Javert’s underwear down, losing it amongst the sheets instantly.

Javert shivers at the feel of Valjean’s mouth on the back of his neck.  Valjean’s lips send a surge of tingling lust straight to his cock.

“Your hair’s longer.” Valjean’s fingers caress his hair and Javert resists the urge to lean his head back into that touch.

“Yeah, it grows you know.” It's too scruffy, he needs to get it cut. That was another thing that had been on his to-do list before this little kidnapping jaunt.

“Smart ass." Valjean tugs lightly on his hair, liking the feel of it under his fingers. "I like it.”

“Didn’t realize you spent a lot of time thinking about police hair styles.”

“Had to do something in prison.” Valjean reaches for the lube he'd placed in the bedside table drawer.

“You’re letting the cold air in.” Javert complains.

“Shhhh.” Valjean dribbles some into his hand, and pulls the blankets back, easing his hand down Javert’s ass.

“ _Cold_.”

“It’ll warm up, give it a minute.” Valjean’s fingers rub across Javert’s hole, feeling Javert’s every response. The man’s back is pressed to his chest and Valjean takes the opportunity to kiss Javert’s shoulder as he eases his forefinger into Javert’s ass.

“Fuck,” Javert moans.

“What?”

“Feels good.” Valjean’s got good fingers for this. He pushes further inside Javert, up to the knuckle. He adds another, stretching Javert. Javert raises his left leg slightly, allowing Valjean to slip his knee between his legs, letting his fingers sink deeper into him.

Valjean’s got his mouth against the crook of Javert’s neck, sucking at his skin. Valjean curls his fingers and Javert arches back against those talented fingers. Valjean twists them just right and Javert sees fucking stars.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasps. For a moment he can’t breathe. “Fuck, no, fuck. Stop.”  His chest feels tight and his dick is hard as a post. The momentary panic he felt, he can’t explain.

Valjean's fingers pause between his legs. "Do you truly want me to stop?"

"No, fuck you, of course I don't want you to stop." Javert presses back against him and Valjean's fingers finally start moving again. He doesn’t know what it is about this man, but his body reacts to Valjean’s like it’s doused in fucking whiskey. Valjean’s nipples brush against his back, his chest hair tickling Javert’s skin. Javert’s breath hitches as Valjean swivels his fingers and pulls them out.

“You better be putting your dick in me immediately.”

“You are the neediest fuck I’ve ever had,” Valjean grabs at the lube again to slick his cock.

“Less talk, more dick.” Javert grinds his ass against Valjean’s crotch.

Valjean alters his angle, pushes his cock between Javert’s cheeks. Already this feels amazing. He could just do this all night and it’d be awesome. But then his cock slides in and Valjean groans.

“Shut up.” Javert growls. “You want to wake her up?”

“Right, right.” Valjean wraps an arm around Javert’s hips, holding him in place as he thrusts further in. Jesus Christ, this is fantastic. The sex in the bathroom was great, but _this_ is unbelievable. Valjean goes back to kissing along Javert’s neck as they fuck.

 _Holy fuck_. Javert’s body trembles all over as Valjean mouths along his neck.

Valjean half drags his dick out of his ass, and thrusts back in. Javert meets him thrust for thrust. Valjean wraps his hand around Javert’s cock, stroking him in time with the strokes. Javert’s hips buck eagerly and Valjean sinks his teeth into Javert’s neck, ending with one hard thrust as he comes balls-deep in Javert's ass.

Javert clenches tightly around him as his own orgasm rushes over him. He opens his mouth and Valjean claps a hand over his mouth stifling his impending cry. Valjean holds him like that, his hands on Javert's mouth and cock until Javert’s cock finally stills in his palm.

Javert inhales hard, trying to get his heartbeat to slow down. Valjean’s teeth graze along the sensitive skin on his neck and Javert just fucking groans inwardly. It's the best sex he's had in years frankly, even if it is with a fucking criminal.

His right arm is going to kill him tomorrow for the angle it’s laying at. His conscience will kill him later. But oh god, is this worth it.

Valjean just chuckles and wipes his sticky hand on Javert’s hip

"You," Javert murmurs something but forgets what he's going to say. He's deliciously sated and sleepy. He just wants to go to sleep so he does.

 *  *  *

Only to wake with Valjean's arm wrapped around him, and his hard on digging into Javert's ass.

Javert starts to move forward and then grunts in surprise. "Valjean, wake up."

"What?" Valjean's arm just tightens around him reflexively.

"Wake up you shithead, you're still inside me." Javert tries to roll away from him, but between the handcuff keeping him in place, the arm draped over him and the cock still firmly planted in his ass he's not going anywhere. Even soft Valjean's cock is impressive. At the moment Javert just hates it like hell.

The only way any of this could get worse is if Cosette wakes up.

And then she stirs and Javert realizes what he's always known deep down. God truly absolutely fucking hates him.

"Papa?" Cosette sits up and looks around. She spots Valjean in Javert's bed, and just eyes the two of them tucked up under the blankets. Javert tries to look completely at ease. This is all totally normal. He always wakes up with an ex-con’s dick in his ass. He elbows Valjean in the chest. "Wake up."

"What're you doing?" Cosette asks.

"Trying to wake him up." Javert elbows him harder this time and Valjean groans and stirs. Only as he moves, he hits something right and Javert fucking moans.

" _God in heaven!"_ If he comes from simply having Valjean’s dick in him all night he’s never going to forgive himself.

"Is it Sunday then?" Cosette asks with interest.

"What?"

"That's what Papa always says when it's Sunday and he doesn't have to go to work."

Javert is officially in hell.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Stop poking me.” Valjean opens his eyes at last. It’s too early for this.

“ _You_ quit poking _me_.” Javert grits out. He’s sore as hell, but turned on as fuck. If he could just die now, that would be more than okay with him.

Valjean blinks sleepily, and then he realizes Javert’s a lot closer than Valjean would have thought he’d be, he never took Javert for a cuddler, and then he realizes what else is going on. It’s not his fault if he gets harder just knowing he’s still buried in Javert.

Javert twists his head to glare at him, and then nods in the other direction. Valjean glances over his shoulder to see Cosette sitting up in bed, watching them.

 _Great. Just great_. He grimaces. “Cosette, ah, can you go in the bathroom for a moment?”

Cosette chooses this moment to get inquisitive on him. “Why?”

“Because…we’re going to get breakfast, and you want to be ready, don’t you _?” Because my dick’s buried in this exquisite heat and I’m about to come just from lying here._

Cosette nods, but doesn’t move.

“Go on, Cosette.” Valjean says impatiently. His cock’s growing even harder, but Javert’s ass is so damn perfect, he could go again right now.

“Is Javert coming too?” She says his name all soft and light, like she likes it. It sounds weird on her tongue.

Javert glances at her, and then shifts his gaze back to the carpet. _Come on kid, leave already_. He can feel sweat beading on the back on the back of his neck. Valjean’s cock thickens inside him, and he bites back an undignified groan.

“No, he has to stay here to watch the room.”

“Oh.” Cosette looks disappointed, but at last she gets off the bed and goes into the bathroom.

As soon as the door’s closed, Valjean breathes a sigh of relief. He’s going to hell for this. He just knows it.

“Get the fuck out of me.” Javert tries to squirm away, but there’s no fucking escape. His right arm is killing him.

Valjean just grunts. “I think, shit, I think it’d be easier if I…”

Javert hangs his head. “Oh for christ’s sake, just do it.”

Valjean shifts his hips slightly, rocking forward. Oh god, then he starts moving,  and it feels messy and dirty all at once, like fucking heaven itself, and this time, Javert’s thighs tremble as Valjean fucks him and he comes without Valjean even touching his dick.

“Jesus.” Valjean eases out of Javert as quickly as possible and gets out of bed.

 Javert winces, pulling himself up to kneel on the bed. “Where the fuck is my underwear?” He can feel spunk oozing out of him, and he grimaces. Fuck, he needs another shower. Maybe two.

“Somewhere under there.” Valjean gestures to the blankets tangled around Javert’s feet.  He grabs his own boxers from the floor and pulls them on quickly before reaching for his jeans. He can’t believe he let that happen, but it was so _hot._ Even now, it’s incredible _. I spent the night inside Javert. Holy shit._

Javert digs under the blankets frantically, but comes up with nothing. His dick’s just flopping around and he can’t reach his pants. Any minute Cosette is going to come out of the bathroom and he’s going to scar her for the rest of her life. “ _Valjean_.”

There’s a note of desperation, which makes Valjean turn back to him. He pulls back the blankets and finally finds Javert’s boxers caught in the sheets. He tosses them at him and Javert struggles to pull them up over his hips one-handed. He jerks too hard on his cuffed wrist and winces.

“ _Fuck_.”

Valjean looks at him almost sympathetically, but doesn’t uncuff him.

Cosette comes out of the bathroom. “I washed my face, Papa. Can we go now?”

“Yeah.” Valjean grabs his t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Valjean, I have to piss.” Javert tugs at the cuff. “You can’t just leave me here.” He needs a piss, and a shower, and maybe a bottle of scotch to make him forget the last 48 hours.

“You can hold it.” Valjean pulls his shoes on, checks for his wallet.  

“I’ll piss all over your bed.” Javert threatens. “Come on, Valjean. Two minutes.” He takes a deep breath and forces an almost civil, “ _Please_ ,” out of his mouth.

Valjean sighs. “Cosette, go get your shoes on.”

He gets the gun from where he stashed it last night and grabs the key to the handcuffs. Tossing the key to Javert, he keeps the gun trained on him. “Cuff your wrists in front of you.”

Javert obeys. He raises his hands in front of him when he’s done, as if to say, ‘Happy now?’

Valjean’s eyes follow him into the bathroom.

Cosette bounces from one foot to another. “Can we go now?”

“Just a minute.” Valjean sighs and scratches at his head.

The door opens and Javert comes out, looking infinitely more comfortable now that he’s relieved himself. His shirt collar’s all rucked up around his neck and below that there’s only his boxers, just bare light-haired legs up to his thighs makes Valjean hard all over again. Knowing Javert still has Valjean’s come in his ass just makes everything sweeter.

“Back on the bed.”

“This is getting old.” Javert says, but sits on the bed, and only cuffs one of his hands. Valjean shrugs and takes the key away from him, before cuffing his other hand as well.

“ _Hey_.”

“Sorry, I still don’t trust you not to yell.” Valjean ties the gag around him again and pretends that he doesn’t see the momentary pained look in Javert’s eyes.

Then he takes Cosette and they leave.

Javert swallows tightly against the gag. Whenever he gets out of this, he’s going to fucking strangle Jean Valjean with his own two hands.


	11. Chapter 11

Javert thinks back to how Valjean looked the first time he ever saw him, scared shitless in that alley, every bone in the man’s body poised to run as the police cornered him. Valjean wasn’t a master criminal. He’d simply gotten in over his head. It happened, every single day. But the law was the law.

It had been a simple case, a bank robbery. Valjean was just the getaway driver, but he still committed a crime, and Javert had no regrets about arresting him. He’d done his job. That’s what he _did._

Javert refuses to feel bad about doing his duty.

The door opens and Cosette bounces in. “We brought you strawberry jam, and fresh butter!” She drops the bag on his lap and Javert just looks at her.  The excitement in her eyes dies down and she slides off the bed to go sit on the other bed.

“You don’t have to be mean to her.” Valjean comes over to him to untie the gag. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

Javert just looks at him. He’s fed up with this situation, fed up with Valjean. He’s _done_ with this shit. Valjean undoes one of his wrists and leaves him alone to eat.

Frankly Javert isn’t very hungry, but he’d be a fool to turn down food, so he eats a freshly baked roll, slathered with jam and butter and then finally, he coaxes Cosette over to the bed and gives her the other roll. She bounces on the bed happily, devouring the roll in quick sharp little bites. Javert watches her, and looks up to see Valjean watching him. He shrugs off the man’s gaze.

“I’d like another shower.” Javert gets off the bed, his one wrist still holding him back.

“Sure.” Valjean doesn’t move, eyes still on his phone.

“If you had used a condom,” Javert starts, and Valjean’s halfway across the room before he has time to finish the sentence.

“Shut it.” Valjean  glances at Cosette, who’s watching them. “Come on.” Valjean unfastens the cuff around his wrist, pushing him into the bathroom.

There, he locks the door and leans against it. “Go on.”

“Get out.”

“No deal.” Valjean just waits.

So Javert shucks his clothes, ignores the way Valjean is eyeing his ass and gets into the shower. He’s aware of Valjean’s eyes watching him through the thin curtain. Javert turns his back. He drops his head under the spray as he washes between his legs.

When he’s done, Valjean holds out a towel. Javert takes it silently, drying himself off. Valjean just watches impassively, though Javert’s pretty fucking sure if he dropped to his knees right now in front of him, Valjean wouldn’t object to a blowjob.

Javert doesn’t. He has some dignity after all, somewhere.

He finishes drying himself off and tosses the towel in Valjean’s face as he reaches for his boxers. There’s a streak of dried come along the inside seam. Javert scowls at it before starting to rinse them out in the sink.

Valjean hangs the towel over the shower railing and goes back to admiring Javert’s ass.

Javert wrings out his boxers, hanging them up to dry. “Go get my jeans.”

“Say please.” Valjean murmurs, preoccupied.

“Please get my jeans, you pervy asshole.” Javert turns on the tap, scooping up a handful of water to run over his face.

Valjean slaps across him playfully across his bare ass and goes to get his jeans.

When he brings them back, Javert just slides them on bare, the indent of his cock evident along the line of material. Valjean raises an eyebrow at the sight and Javert flips him off.

“Come on,” Valjean holds the bathroom door open. “I’ll leave you uncuffed for half an hour so you can stretch your legs.”

“You’re too kind.” Javert buttons up his shirt. He leaves his socks off for now, and follows Valjean out in bare feet.

 *  *  *

Valjean’s got the key, the gun, and both phones. Javert thinks about this as he cracks his back, and then drops to the floor to do some push-ups. He can feel the cramps in his shoulders from just lying around for the last two days. At least the sex has been fairly energetic. That’s something, he supposes.

He does fifty quick pushups and then switches to sit-ups. Valjean’s still watching him, Javert can feel it. _So let him._  He finishes, and just lies there on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Cosette’s head comes into view as she stares down at him intently. “Why’re you doing this?”

“Because I’m tired of being restrained.” Javert pushes himself up.

Cosette frowns, “Why are you restrained?” Clearly she has no clue what the word means.

“Because if he leaves me unchained, I’ll just have to arrest him.”  Javert’s tired of all of this. He has no energy to lie any more.

“Javert.” Valjean warns.

Javert ignores him. It’s her life too. She should know what’s going on.

Cosette frowns harder, her tiny brow creased with the worrying of it. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you see a long time ago, your…Valjean stole something and he had to go to prison for it, so I put him there. And when he escaped, I put him _back_.” Javert can feel Valjean’s glare upon him but he doesn’t care.

“Why?”

“Because he stole something.” He pushes himself to sit on the bed, trying to ease the crick in his neck. He’s not going to deal with the semantics of Valjean being the getaway driver; he was there, he was involved, end of story. "And stealing is wrong."

“Big deal.” Valjean mutters. He’s been down this road before. He’s not going to argue this with Javert.

“Evidence doesn’t lie.” Javert’s voice is as cool as that first time in the alley.

“Shut up.” Valjean snaps. “She doesn’t need to hear any of this.”

Javert remains unfazed. “Is it for her sake that you’re afraid, Valjean? Or for yourself?”

With a snarl Valjean is upon him and they fall backward across the bed. Javert punches him, but Valjean’s elbow connects with his fist. They roll off the bed, hitting the carpet. Valjean’s got a leg between his knees and his fingers jerk in Javert’s collar as he rears back to punch him hard in the face. Javert spits blood at him and Valjean hits him again, knocking Javert’s head back against the carpet. He struggles in vain as Valjean draws back, preparing to punch him again.

The slamming bathroom door draws Valjean back to himself.

“Cosette?”

The lock clicks and Valjean pulls back, sitting on Javert’s hips. “Cosette!”

“Get off me.” Javert pushes at him and Valjean moves off, going to try the bathroom door. It’s definitely locked.

“Cosette, unlock the door this minute!”

No answer.

“Cosette!”

Javert wipes his bloody mouth on his sleeve. “Stop frightening her.”

“Me!” Valjean stares at him. “You’re the one!”

“Shut up.” Javert leans against the wall next to the door. “Cosette, it’s done.” He’s so tired all of a sudden. He wants to just sink down to the floor and sit there for a month.

“Is it?” Valjean mutters.

Javert gives him a look. “Your…papa,” (and it seriously pains him to call Valjean that because it’s untrue) “and I will resolve our differences somehow, but it’s done. For now.” It’s the best he can offer that’s truthful. He can’t promise everything will turn out okay because it won’t be, and he can’t lie to her. He _won’t_ lie to her.

The door opens an inch. “Promise?”

Javert grits his teeth. “I promise.”

Cosette opens the door and slips out to wrap her arms around his left leg, burying her face in his jeans.

Valjean just sinks down on the bed, staring at them both. Rolling his eyes, Javert tries to pry her off. She doesn’t budge, just stares up at him imploringly.

“What do you want?” Javert demands. He doesn’t _do_ this sort of shit.

“Pick me up.” Cosette whispers.

Javert doesn’t do kids. He doesn’t. He doesn’t touch them, doesn’t fucking go anywhere near them. They run away from him in the streets, little bastards always egging his car, slitting his tires. But now he sighs and reaches down to pick Cosette up. Her arms creep around his neck and she lays her head against his chest.

“Tell me a story.”

_Fuck._

_*  *  *  
_

Valjean goes out, closing the door after him. He shouldn’t leave, but he can’t stay in the room a minute longer. Javert handled the situation better than he did. _Javert._ What the hell?

He lights a cigarette, his hand shaking.

He’s never broached the subject of Fantine with Cosette. Not really. He’s told her that her mother loved her very much. That’s all Cosette needs to know for now. It’s all he can bear to say.

She doesn’t have to know that it’s because of him that her mother’s life fell apart. He leans his head back against the wall. He’d gone to prison, and Fantine would have managed, but she’d lost her job barely a year after he was inside. And she was beautiful, his baby sister. It paid good money, he knew that, but cancer stole everything in the end.

 *  *  *

“Cosette, what do you know about your papa?” Javert has been sitting there on the floor with her on his lap for the last five minutes and it’s getting to the point where he wants to know what to do next.

“I know that he’s not really my papa,” Cosette explains. “He’s mama’s brother, and he used to visit us a lot, but then That Asshole Cop put him in prison and we didn’t see him for a very long time.”

Javert didn’t know whether to be insulted that Fantine called him an asshole or amused at the way Cosette delivered the obviously familiar household phrase.

“Yeah, that’d be me.” He scratches at his chin and sighs.

“What’s an asshole?”

“Uh, you know, someone’s who’s a dick.” _Don’t ask me what a dick is,_ “Uh, someone who’s not very nice.”

Cosette blinks up at him. “Mama was mistaken then.”

“How’s that?” Javert eyes her.

“You’re nice?” Cosette says it like she thinks maybe he hasn’t realized how nice he is.

“Whatever gives you the idea that I’m nice?”

“You kissed Papa.”

Fuck. “Uh…Cosette, sometimes people kiss each other just for the hell of it. Because they want to _,” shit shit shit_ , “Not because they’re nice.” Javert has kissed a fuckton of people, and never once has it been because he’s nice.

“You don’t like him then?” Her lower lip trembles slightly and Javert decides then and there that he’s never putting himself in this situation ever again. How do people DEAL WITH THIS?

“He’s not so bad.” He says at last. There are worse men out there certainly.


	12. Chapter 12

Valjean comes back inside at last. Javert tries to hide how relieved he is, but he suspects he does a poor job of it. Valjean crouches down beside them. He ignores Javert, simply gathering Cosette up in his arms.

"I'm sorry you were frightened." He caresses her hair. "It's okay now." He sits down on the end of the bed, Cosette cradled in his arms.

Javert stays where he is on the floor, just waiting for this all to be over.

"You were so angry," Cosette buries her face in his shirt. There's an intimacy there that makes Javert supremely uncomfortable. He looks away even as he waits for Valjean's response.

Valjean sighs. "Cosette, Javert and I... disagree on lots of things." Valjean says at last and Javert only just manages to suppress his snort.

"It's not that bad." Valjean seeks to reassure her. "Everything's going to be all right, Cosette."

Javert rolls his eyes. He shouldn't tell her that; he shouldn't tell her any of this. Valjean's merely setting her up for a wretched disappointment. There’s no way everything will be all right. Statistically some things _might_ be all right, but certainly not all.

"Promise?" Cosette whispers, her fingers holding Valjean’s own tightly.

Valjean kisses the top of her head. "I promise."

He straightens up and something about his stance tells Javert that Valjean has reached the point of fanaticism. There is only one thing Valjean desires, to live a life with Cosette, and let the fates pity those who stand his way.

Unfortunately Javert's feet are firmly planted upon that path.

Valjean kisses Cosette again and sets her down before he turns to Javert. "Wrists." He commands.

Javert balks, but Valjean isn't having it. He seizes his wrists, pulling them behind his back. "Easy." Javert complains.

Valjean just pushes him over to a chair at the table and sits him down where he finishes cuffing Javert's wrists behind the back.

"There." Valjean turns aside. "Now I can keep an eye on you."

"What," Javert shakes his hair out of his eyes. "You couldn't see me well enough on the bed?"

"You're not that tall," Valjean tells him and Javert bristles.

"Tall enough to kick your ass."

Valjean just looks at him. "Is that right?"

"You think I can't?" Javert challenges.

"I think I'm not going to give you the chance to try." Valjean's tone is matter of fact. He opens his laptop and gets down to business.

Javert shifts around on the chair, stretching out his legs, trying to get comfortable. He enjoys the way Valjean glances at his crotch for half a moment before returning to his laptop.

"You could at least tell me where I am." Javert figures they can't be that far from the bar; he doesn't remember a terribly long drive that night. Not that he remembers…well, much of anything from that drive. Except the stars. The stars were nice.

"In a motel."

"Bastard," Javert watches him. "What are you waiting for?"

Valjean finally looks at him again, “For someone to make contact. Why did you go to the bar?"

"Why'd you take me with you?" Javert counters. He doesn't want to delve into the bar. The bar is problematic, just like Jean Valjean.

Valjean just shakes his head and goes to pour himself more coffee.  “Why’d you go to the bar?”

Javert sighs. He tries to think back what had actually motivated him to go to the bar. “Oh…I’d had a good break on a case.” It seems a million years ago now. It was barely the day before yesterday. Jeez. He’s going crazy in this motel room.

“Oh?” Valjean raises an eyebrow. “Put away a real bad guy? Enforce the long arm of the law?”

Javert winces. “Why does that sound like an invitation for fisting when you say it?”

Valjean just chuckles.

 Javert quite likes the sound of Valjean’s laughter. Doesn’t change anything of course, but it’s nice to hear all the same.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I got a piece of evidence that this guy we’d been pursuing for the last eight months is definitely guilty. We have an informant who said they’d testify.” Fuck, he should be there working on his case, not here sitting on his ass.

“Good on you.” Valjean raises his coffee, saluting him.

Javert frowns. “I can do without your fucking mockery, thanks.” He looks away from Valjean, who stares at him.

“I wasn’t…” Valjean sighs. “I don’t suppose you’ll believe me, but I have immense respect for you, and the law.”

“Sure you do.” Javert mutters.

“Do you like it?” Valjean asks abruptly.

“Do I like being a cop?” Javert considers this. “Yeah. It’s the only thing I was ever…” He pauses there and Valjean thinks he’s done, and then Javert shrugs his shoulders as best as he can with his hands cuffed, “good at.”

“That’s not true.” Valjean says quietly.

Javert waits, as if to say, _what then?_ He’s curious as to what else Valjean could possibly come up with.

Valjean glances over at Cosette, and then leans forward. “You are superlative at sucking dick.” Valjean half expects Javert to spit at him. Instead the inspector just makes a wry face.

“Only you would appreciate that.”

Valjean’s eyes widen. “You don’t mean to say mine's the only dick you’ve ever sucked.”

“Fuck no, but I haven’t got any time to,” Javert shifts uncomfortably. “and being in a relationship just takes so much effort.” He goes silent and again Valjean thinks the conversation is done with. His gaze drifts back to his laptop.

“Why’d you run?” Javert asks. “You would have gotten out in a year.”

He’salways wanted to know, but when he arrested Valjean the second time there had been no time to ask. Valjean had been incensed, struggling wildly to get away. It had taken two other policemen besides Javert to subdue him then.

Valjean’s hands freeze on the keyboard, and he looks up at Javert. “I’d heard that they were cancelling my parole because of a fight I’d gotten into. I couldn’t handle that. Fantine wasn’t doing too good, and I needed to be there for them.” He sighs. “It didn’t go so well.”

“That’s cause you’re a fucking idiot.” Javert says irritably. “Why’d you try to pull another job? For that matter, why’d you fucking pull the first one to begin with?" Valjean’s never struck him as purely a criminal, just someone who made stupid-ass decisions, and unfortunately those decisions were against the law.

Valjean just sighs again. “The first time was stupid, I'll give you that. I thought I was doing a favor for a friend, just driving the car, and well, you know how that ended,” he eyes Javert for a moment and they both know they’re remembering that alley.

“I should have gotten out, but that stupid fight fucked up my parole, and then Fantine was diagnosed. Everything just went to shit after that. I thought if I could just do the second job then she’d be better off, be able to focus on getting better. Maybe not worry so much all the time. It was draining her.” He trails off, the grief creeping up on him again until his chest feels tight.

“Yeah, well, like I said. Fucking idiot.”

Valjean shakes his head. “Family is all you’ve got. I couldn’t lose her and then…I did.” His expression hardens. “I won’t lose Cosette.”


	13. Chapter 13

Valjean practically ignores him for the rest of the day. Javert pesters him into letting him have a bathroom break and then it’s back to the bed this time.

 *  *  *

Sandwiches again for lunch. Cosette carefully eats her crusts first and then slowly the middle, like it’s something special. She smiles at Javert while she’s doing it and he can’t help smiling back.

 *  *  *

As the afternoon passes Javert can feel his brain slowly atrophying. “So goddamn boring.” He complains.

Valjean just keeps on ignoring him. He checks his phone every so often and then goes back to the computer.

“Play I Spy with me.” Cosette settles on the bed at his feet. “You start.”

“I spy something annoying.” Javert tells her, and then as she screws up her brow, trying to figure it out, he says, “Fine, I spy something green.”

It only takes her four tries to figure out it’s the picture frame for the atrocious artwork hanging over the bed. Not bad for a kid.

*  *  *

It’s one of the longest days Javert’s ever known.

*  *  *

When it’s early evening, Valjean finally closes down his laptop. “Cosette, come on, I’ll take you out for dinner.”

“Javert come too.” She says hopefully, looking between the two of them.

Valjean rests his hand on her head for a moment. “Not tonight, sweetie. Now go put on your shoes.”

Cosette sulks, but goes.

“I don’t want to gag you,” Valjean starts.

“Oh, just do it.” Javert doesn’t want to hear his excuses. He doesn’t look at Valjean as he fastens the gag around Javert’s mouth.

 *  *  *

It’s over an hour later when Valjean returns without Cosette.

Javert pulls at his handcuffs uselessly as he watches Valjean close the door, and locks it. Valjean gives him a long slow considering look that does things to Javert's dick before untying the gag.

“Where have you been? Where’s Cosette?”

“They’re showing a movie in the lounge for all the kids.” Valjean sits down on the bed next to him. “Thought we could take advantage of the situation.”

Javert stares at him. “You’re not serious.”

“Cosette needs a break.” Valjean tells him, his hand sidling up Javert's thigh.

“ _She_ needs a break.” Javert wants to fucking laugh. “Are you kidding me? We've had sex three times in two days. Aren't you tired?" Maybe if Javert had free use of his limbs he’d have as much energy as Valjean seems to have. As it is, he feels exhausted even if he hasn’t done anything but occasionally have sex for the last two days.

Valjean pauses. “Four times.”

“Three.” Javert would definitely remember if there had been a fourth time. Technically he's not sure he counts it as three, since Valjean just stayed in him, but there was more come, so that counts.

Valjean frowns at him. “You’re not counting the blowjob?”

“It was a _blowjob_ ,” Javert’s voice borders on hysterical. He can’t believe they’re having this conversation.

Valjean blinks. "Do you really not want this?"

"Contrary to general assumptions my dick doesn't do all my thinking." Javert says testily. "It's not that," He takes a deep breath. “I want to have sex with you. I don't _want_ to want that, but I do want it.”

Valjean’s just gazing at him, and Javert’s tongue is running away with him before he can help himself. “I want you so much it makes me fucking crazy, because it's just exacerbating the whole situation. I should be arresting your ass, not gagging for it. And when you are eventually caught, as we both know you will be, none of this is going to look good on any level." He frowns. "What are you doing?"

Valjean's hand snakes down along the inside of his jeans. "Sorry. I kinda stopped paying attention after you said you want me so much it drives you crazy."

"Typical." Javert sighs. He bites his lip as Valjean’s hand slides over his boxers. "Sex. I just want sex." Javert clarifies. "It's not just you.”

"Sure it isn't," Valjean leans down to press his mouth to the bulge rising against Javert’s jeans. Javert inhales softly.

"Say it again." Valjean whispers.

"I want you." Javert groans. “Oh, fucking hell, this is blackmail.”

Valjean drags his zipper down.

Javert stares down at him and then squeezes his eyes shut. “What are we doing here?” He opens his eyes almost immediately. “And if you say giving me a blowjob, I will crotch-butt your face.”

“As charming as that sounds, I wasn’t going to say that.” Valjean says dryly. He pauses, eying Javert’s tense form.  “If I tell you, will you shut the hell up and relax?”

Javert wills his cock not to choose this moment to get even more interested, but too late. “Maybe.”

Valjean’s eyes drift downward again. Lightly his fingers stroke across the bulge in Javert’s boxers.

“You’re a bastard.” Javert hisses.

“I know.” Valjean sucks along the outline of his cock, making Javert groan. “I’m waiting for an old…friend to make contact.”

“You said that before.” Javert frowns at him. “What’re you waiting for, Valjean?” Why hasn’t he just made a run for it if that’s what he’s resigned on doing? Why hang out in this shitty motel for no reason? He’s been trying to work out, and the sex must be addling his brain cause so far he’s got nothing.

Valjean hesitates. “I need something before we can get out of here.” He doesn’t say anything more, but Javert’s already put two and two together.

“Money? Is that what you’re waiting for? That’s it? Are you gonna pull another job? Or maybe you’ve got some stashed away,” Javert stops suddenly. “That’s it.” The second job Valjean had been involved with. Some of the money had never been recovered. Valjean had sworn he hadn’t known where it was and the jury (more fool they) had believed him.

 _It’s those fucking eyes_ , Javert thinks savagely. _They get you right in the gut._

“You’ve got money from that bank job squirreled away somewhere.” How fucking stupid can Valjean get? He can’t possibly think this will work and yet apparently he does.

“Always plan ahead, inspector.” Valjean murmurs, drawing Javert’s cock out of his boxers.

Javert struggles to put this into terms Valjean will understand. “Valjean, if they catch you with that money on you, you’ll be locked up for good. You’ll never ever get to see Cosette again.”

“What’s the alternative? Give her back and hope that justice is kind?” Valjean sits back on his knees.

Javert licks his lips. “Yes.”

“Pah!” Valjean’s scornful of justice.

“Valjean, I give you my word I will do everything in my power to see that you’re not treated unfairly, but if you touch that money, I will make certain you’ll spend the rest of your days in prison.” Javert glares up at him.

Valjean gazes at him for a long unreadable moment. “At least I always know where I stand with you.” He glances down and then, before Javert can speak another word, Valjean leans down to take him deep in his throat.

Javert’s hips buck upward, arching needily toward that glorious heat. Valjean’s hands slide under his ass, pulling him closer till his nose is nestled in Javert’s pubic hair, and fuck, if Valjean thought _he_ was good at this because Valjean is no slouch himself.

Javert strains against the handcuffs, his chest tightening. Valjean’s fingers dig into his ass as he draws off, dragging his tongue down along Javert’s cock.

“Fuck.” Javert has about a million things he wants to yell at Valjean for, but this is too goddamn distracting. This can go on for a while longer.

Valjen just grins at him and then he starts sucking on Javert’s balls.

When he comes at last, Javert doesn’t feel the slightest bit bad about shooting all over Valjean’s face.

“Shit,” Valjean sits back. “You could have warned me.” He swipes at the mess coating his cheek with one hand while tucking Javert away with the other.

“Mm, too busy.” Javert memorizes this sight for later. It’s one he’ll take with him to the grave.

Valjean just flips him off and goes to clean up.

He comes back, all clean-faced and fuck if Javert doesn’t want to just fuck his face all over again.

Valjean however merely returns to his laptop.

 *  *  *

Around ten o’clock a pleasant looking, albeit weary-faced red-headed woman with two kids of her own, brings Cosette back. Valjean thanks her at the door, careful not to let her see too much inside the motel room.

Cosette babbles about playing with the other kids and watching the movie while Valjean gets her into her pajamas. She insists on telling Javert all about the movie which seems to have involved kittens getting stolen by a butler and lots of singing. Javert just nods in response whenever she pauses for breath.

“Cosette,” Valjean scoops her up. “Time for bed.”

 *  *  *

It’s late but Cosette keeps tossing and turning. Valjean’s settled down with her four times and each time she wants a glass of water, she wants another story, she wants her doll. Valjean’s patient with her, but even he’s only human.

“Cosette, just try to sleep, please, okay?”

“No sleep.” Cosette fusses. "Walk." She stares up at him and Valjean just sighs tiredly and surrenders.

"Okay," He gets out of bed and reaches for his pants.

"Javert come too." She climbs over on the other bed, bouncing around on Javert’s legs.

"Cosette, sweetie,” Valjean yawns. “Javert doesn't want to go for a walk."

Javert snorts. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm going stir-crazy in here." He whispers conspiratorially to Cosette. "Cosette, I would love to go for a walk."

"Not helping."

"Yeah well, I'm not here to help you am I?"

“Fine.” Valjean’s too tired to argue at this point. He puts his shoes on and makes sure Cosette has her jacket before going over to Javert. He unlocks both wrists but leaves Javert cuffed in the right one. The left cuff he snaps around his own wrist.

“Come on.”

 *  *  *

The neighborhood surrounding the motel is quiet. There are few lights on at this hour of the night. Valjean walks along with Cosette in one hand, and Javert attached to the other. He glances down at their hands. From a distance, anyone who didn’t know any better would think they were holding hands.

He glances at Javert, half expecting a crack or two, but Javert’s too busy just enjoying the walk.

“It’s a beautiful night.” He says, and Valjean half trips at the words.

“Yeah, it is.” There are no clouds, and the stars are out.

Cosette’s humming under her breath as she skips along at his side and Valjean realizes in this moment, right here and now, he’s inexplicably content.


	14. Chapter 14

On the third morning of _Motel Life Adventure_ Javert wakes in bed with Valjean, Cosette is nestled between them. When they finally got back after the walk she had sleepily clung to both of them and Valjean had just said, “Sleep.”

So they slept, handcuffs linking them together.

Now Javert watches Cosette sleep peacefully here beside her papa, and he looks at Valjean. Among the ever present thoughts of _what a fucking idiot_ , he also thinks Valjean doesn’t even look like a convict, which is a shame. He should look like one so Javert isn’t tempted to lean over and kiss him good morning like he’s tempted to do. It's not the first time Javert's been tempted to do stupid shit.

He tries to summon up the image of Valjean when he arrested him the second time again, but all Javert manages to find is the look on Valjean’s face before he does something that surprises Javert. Like when he suggested that unexpected truce in the bathroom, or when he went down on Javert last night. The man is full of surprises and Javert discovers to his annoyance that he wants to know What Happens Next in the story of Jean Valjean.

It’s the worst realization ever because Javert already knows how this ends.

Valjean stirs and opens one eye, looking at Javert over Cosette’s head. “Good morning.” He murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

“I need to piss.” Javert states.

“Well, you’re certainly an early morning romantic.” Valjean yawns and sits up, careful not to disturb Cosette. “Come on then.”

Javert grumbles, but he goes. And pisses while Valjean leans in the doorway, watching him and yawning. “This is getting to be a kink with you isn’t it?” He tugs his boxers back up with his free hand.

“Trust me, there are lots of other things I’d rather see you do with your dick.” Valjean tells him, far too close because of the handcuffs.

Javert washes his hands, pulling Valjean closer to the sink. He splashes water over his shoulder at Valjean’s face.

“Hey!”

Javert heads out of the bathroom. “You could always let me go.”

“Not yet.”

Javert stops dead, letting Valjean bump into him. “When?”

Valjean’s so close, he can see the dried sleep in the corner of Javert’s eyes, the tired lines criss-crossing his face. Javert needs a shave, and a shower, and Valjean would love to press him down on the bed and kiss him till he shuts up.

Instead he sighs and says, “Soon.”

Javert rolls his eyes. “Yeah right.”

Valjean draws him over to the bed and attaches the cuff to the bed. “I’ll be back with coffee.” Valjean leans over to kiss Cosette on the head and reaches for his pants.

 *  *  *

 Javert yawns and stretches, grimacing as yet again he forgets and pulls too hard on the handcuff.

Cosette snuggles up against his chest, not quite ready to get out of bed. Javert can’t blame her. Normally he’d love to sleep in, but he never has the time most days, always busy with work.

"Cosette what do you know about handcuffs?" Maybe she knows where the key is. Maybe this could be a nice game of Find The Key and Help Javert.

Cosette yawns as well. "You're wearing them cause you were bad and needed a timeout."

For the love of Christ. "Is that what he told you?" _Jesus, nice one, Valjean._

"Yep."

"Yeah, well, maybe I did," Javert sighs. "Maybe I never should have gone to that bar in the first place." Maybe the next time he gets a little bit ahead at work he should just stay at home and get drunk in the safety of his own apartment.

"The nice place with the little umbrellas on the table?" Cosette murmurs. "Where you kissed Papa and he got all growly?"

"That's the one."

Cosette just leans her head back against his chest. "I'm glad you went there. You wouldn't have gotten to come with us if you hadn't."

"That's true, I suppose." Javert leans his head back against the headboard. He gets why Valjean is doing what he’s doing, but it doesn’t excuse anything, and the fact that Valjean actually thinks he has a chance of succeeding is ridiculous.

 *  *  *

Valjean comes back with the promised coffee and breakfast rolls. Javert manages to eat half of his, then gives the rest to Cosette.

“Something wrong with your stomach?” Valjean inquires.

Javert shrugs. Now that he knows what Valjean is planning, the tension is unendurable. He drinks his coffee and watches Valjean as he moves around the motel room.

“What?” Valjean says finally, turning to face him. “Why are you staring at me?”

“What are you trying to do?” Javert takes a sip of coffee. “What are you _doing?_ ” Is he waiting for passports? New identities? A safe location? What? What is he waiting for?

“I’m keeping my head down, and I’m waiting.” Valjean says patiently, like he’s explained this a hundred times before.

“Waiting for what?” Javert challenges. “You’re going to be running for a long time, Valjean. You’ll never be able to fucking stop. Not after this.”

Valjean shakes his head. “They’re not going to care that much. Eventually they’ll drop the case. Tholomyès is an asshole. He doesn’t give a shit about Cosette.”

 “You’re probably right about that.” Javert hates it, but unfortunately the kidnapping charge is no longer the main thing at hand here. “But it’s not just that any more. It’s the money, Valjean.” One thing has been bugging him though.  “What I want to know is, why didn’t you use that for Fantine?”

“By the time I got out it was too late. She was dying and she didn’t want me to, wouldn’t let me. I didn’t want it for myself. I don’t _want_ it now. But if it means having Cosette,”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Javert pulls at his cuffed wrist in vain. “You’re going to make everything a hundred times worse if you get your hands on that money. They won’t let that drop, Valjean. Once they know you still have it, they’ll never let up.”

“Shut up.” Valjean snarls at him.

“You’ll never see her again.” Javert’s not sure if he’s talking about Fantine or Cosette, but he’s sure of one thing.

Valjean throws a fucking nasty punch.


	15. Chapter 15

Javert wakes in the semi-darkness of late afternoon, his head splitting. He’s cuffed to the bed again, hands stretched above his head. Cosette is sitting at his feet, reading her book to her doll. Valjean is in the corner of the room pacing back and forth as he talks on his phone. Javert lies still, listening.

“You sure? Yeah, that’s…no, I need them by the end of the week.”

Valjean turns and sees Javert’s awake.  “Yeah, just hang on.” He walks out of the room and closes the door.

Javert winces and sighs.  

Only to tense as the door opens again. “No, no, I can do that.” Valjean shoots him a look, but continues over to the laptop. He cradles the phone to his ear as he types something up.

Javert shakes his head, trying to get his headache to leave. It’s not going anywhere. He takes a deep breath and looks at Cosette.

She’s just sitting there, gazing at him sorrowfully. "You and Papa are fighting again."

"Yeah, that's probably gonna go on for a while." Javert runs his tongue all along the inside of his mouth. All his teeth are still there. That’s good at least. Fuck Valjean's strength.

"Cosette could you get me a drink of water?"

She gets up to go over to the sink. Valjean eyes her but doesn't stop her from getting it.

"That's right, she's seven," he says into the phone. "Sending you the picture now."

Javert glares at him but Valjean just ignores him.

"I know where you're going." Javert mutters even as he process what Valjean said. _Seven?_ For some reason he thought Cosette was younger. He should know, but he can't remember for certain.

"Shut up.” Valjean growls.

Javert would argue, but his jaw hurts and his head aches so he keeps his mouth shut for now. Cosette brings him his water and spills half it across his stomach before bringing it up to his lips. Javert manages not to yell at the damp spreading across his shirt. He drinks the rest of the water.

"Thanks."

Cosette beams.

Valjean mutters "Yes, mhm, yes," a few more times and then finally hangs up. He sets his phone aside, resting his palms on the table. He cracks his neck stiffly, twice, dropping it down between his shoulders.

“Can I use the toilet?” Javert asks quietly.

“I don’t give a shit if you stay cuffed to that bed for the rest of your life.” Valjean tells him. But then he just sighs and straightens up.

Valjean unlocks the cuffs and just steps back. “Go on.”

Javert closes the door and leans against it. His head is _killing_ him. Finally he goes over to the shower and turns it on. Sticking his head under the spray he soaks his entire head until there’s water running down the back of his neck, and his throat. Javert turns off the tap and shakes his head gently, knocking off the excess water.

*  *  *

When he comes out of the bathroom, Valjean’s making coffee at the counter, but Cosette’s standing there outside the bathroom, waiting for him.

Waiting for _him._ Javert just looks at her. There’s something heartbreaking at the way her eyes light up as he steps out of the room.

“Play I Spy?” She reaches for his hand.

“Not right now.” Javert tells her. “Can I have a cup of that?”

Valjean just nods. He pours a cup and brings it over to the table. Javert takes it silently. They sit across from each other, like it's a perfectly normal thing to do. Javert waits for Valjean to bring up the handcuffs. When it doesn’t happen, he takes a sip of coffee.

“Sorry about your jaw.” Valjean says unexpectedly.

Javert shakes his head, then wishes he hadn’t. “You have a fucking amazing punch.”

“I know.” Valjean says calmly.

“Of course you do.” Javert sighs. He rubs at the back of his neck, trying to ease the ache there. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sincerely trying to help you here, Valjean.”

“Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind.” Valjean’s voice is stone.

For some reason that just sends Javert over the edge. What does Valjean have to be so calm about? He’s making the worst mistake of his fucking life, and that’s saying something considering Valjean’s track record.

He leans over the table.  "Valjean, see some fucking sense." Then, abruptly, he turns to Cosette. "Cosette, you want to be able to see him sometimes, don't you? Instead of never seeing him again?"

"Hey," Valjean's around the table in an instant, gripping his shirt collar, half hauling Javert out of the chair, "You leave her out of this."

"You're the one who put her in the middle," Javert says quietly.

Valjean just glares at him, and slams Javert back down so hard he winces with the force of it.

"Fuck." Now he'll have a bruised ass as a well as a bruised jaw.

Valjean stands there for a minute, composing himself. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you,”

“Understood.” Javert reaches for his coffee.

“You say the slightest word, _anything,_ ” Valjean points at him. “And the gag’s back, the handcuffs are on, and this time, I’m cuffing you in the shower and you can stay there all day, all night. I don’t care.”

Javert tilts his head up, just looking back at him. “I said, _understood_.”

“Good.” Valjean opens his laptop and reaches for his coffee.

Javert finishes his coffee, watching Valjean type for a while before he gets up. Valjean glances at him, but says nothing.

Javert starts doing sit-ups, focusing on the number. It’s not his responsibility to make Valjean do the right thing. Javert’s duty only begins after Valjean's done the wrong thing. He should just sit back and let Valjean do whatever the fuck he’s going to do.

Javert comes up and pauses, resting his arms on his knees.

He doesn’t want to do that. Maybe that's the whole fucking problem.

Cosette flops on the bed, chin in her hands, watching him. She doesn’t say anything, just lies there.

Javert draws his knees up, leaning back against the bed, watching her back.

“You can talk to her.” Valjean breaks the silence.

“Thank you for your permission.” Javert mutters.

Valjean gives him a look which Javert ignores. He’s too busy staring down Cosette.

“You want something?”

She gives him the tiniest of nods.

Javert thinks about their previous interactions.

“Okay.” He leans back, staring at the ceiling. “Once upon a time.”

*  *  *

Valjean listens to Javert telling Cosette a story. He tries to focus on the file he’s getting together for their departure, but there’s something strangely soothing about Javert’s voice, paraphrasing age-old fairy tales with the occasional coarse term or expletive. Judging from Cosette’s entranced expression, these only enhance the story.

One more day. That’s all Valjean needs, and then they’ll be gone from here, out of this situation, home clean.

Still, Valjean knows he’d be lying if he said there weren’t any regrets going forward from this point. For one thing, and he knows this is crazy, he’s going to miss Javert.

How fucked up is that?


	16. Chapter 16

Valjean orders pizza for dinner and lets Cosette pay the delivery man.

Javert rinses out their coffee cups and turns around to find Valjean just standing there, watching him with a quizzical look on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Valjean shrugs. “Get the plates.”

Javert flips him off and Cosette giggles.

“No, don’t laugh at that,” Valjean admonishes her. “That’s not funny.”

“I thought it was funny.” Javert gets out three plates from the cupboard over the counter.

“You’re not allowed to think it’s funny.”

“Napkins?” Cosette suggests.

“Yes.” Valjean watches her get the roll of paper towels and sighs.

He sets the pizza on the table and drags another chair over so they can all sit together for once.  As an afterthought he gets two beers out of the fridge and hands one to Javert.

“It’s been a long day.”

Javert just nods in agreement and accepts the beer.

There’s a silent agreement not to talk about _it_ over dinner. Instead they both listen to Cosette chatter about how pizza is the best. Javert drinks his beer, savoring it after the last couple days with no alcohol. He eyes Valjean over the table. How strange life it is that this is where they ended up.

Valjean meets his gaze and colors slightly. Javert just sucks on the top of his bottle some more and Valjean grimaces.

“Cut that out.”

Javert grins.

Valjean decides to ignore him. “So where’d you learn the fairy tales?”

Javert sits back in his chair. “My mom.”

Valjean seeks some sign not to push any farther, but Javert’s words are merely quiet, not discouraging.

“She found a lot of worth in stories, even unbelievable ones.”

“Sometimes those are the best.” Valjean tells him.

Javert takes a sip of his beer. “I suppose you like happy endings.”

Valjean resists the urge to make the obvious joke. “They’re not so bad.”

“Unrealistic.” Javert mutters.

“I like Javert’s stories.” Cosette announces, licking a strand of cheese off her fingers.

“Do you?” Valjean asks, amused.

“He tells them good.” She tells him.

“Well.” Javert corrects her automatically.

Valjean rolls his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

 *  *  *

Cosette demands another story before she’ll go to bed, and somehow Javert finds himself stretched out on the bed with her snuggled up next to him as he relays the tale of the the soldier and the tinderbox.

“I want a dog.” Cosette says after he’s finished the tale. She yawns sleepily. “Can I have a dog with round eyes?”

Javert looks down at her. “You’ll have to take that up with Valjean.”

Her eyelids flutter closed, and he strokes a finger across her forehead very gently. Cosette doesn’t open her eyes and Javert sits up, pulling the blankets up to her shoulder.

“She’s out like a light.” He gets up, doing his best not to jolt the bed.

Valjean comes over to the bed. “She’s tired.”

They stand there looking down at the sleeping child, and then Valjean sighs. “Another beer?”

“God, yes.” Javert says fervently.

Valjean fetches the beers and they return to the table.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Valjean starts.

“Oh, here we go.” Javert mutters.

“Was that your first time at that bar?”

Javert lowers his beer. “Seriously? That’s what you want to know?”

“Yeah.” Valjean says, just a touch of defiance lurking there around his mouth. “I want to know.”

“Well, yes. It was my first turn at that bar.” Javert tells him.

“But not at a glory hole.” Valjean smirks at him.

It’s Javert’s turn to roll his eyes. “Never said it was my first time for that.” He licks a drop of beer off his lips, enjoying the way Valjean shifts slightly in his seat at the sight.

As much as he’s enjoying this, Javert can’t leave it there.

“You know this won’t last forever.” He keeps his voice low not wanting to wake Cosette. For that matter, he doesn’t want to hurt Valjean. He simply wants the damned man to understand.

Valjean gazes down at his bottle. “There’s no more beer.”

“Pity.” Javert desperately wants another drink.

“However,” Valjean gets up and goes over to his duffel bag. “There IS tequila.”

“Fuck yes.” Javert gets out two glasses. “You know straight tequila is a terrible idea.”

“Terrible,” Valjean agrees, pouring them each generous amounts.

Javert slugs about half of it back quickly because he needs this, needs to not think about this for a while.

Valjean drinks his more slowly and then pours them both more.

For a few minutes there’s nothing but pleasant silence between them.

“You know why I don’t stop her from trying to wheedle you out of your breakfast?” Valjean says suddenly. “Why I don’t stop you from giving in to her?”

“No...Why?” Javert has a decidedly bad feeling he knows where this is going.

“They were starving her.” Valjean stares at his glass. “That fucking foster home. They were taking the money for her care and _starving_ her.” His fingers clench around the glass. “That’s why I can’t.” He takes a sip and shakes his head. “As soon as Fantine was dead, he just dumped her in foster care. Her own father.” Valjean's voice cracks, his eyes are bleak, red and desperate. "I couldn't leave her there."

Javert's gone very quiet. "No, you couldn't."

He downs the rest of his drink and pours himself another. What Valjean doesn't know is that he grew up in foster care. Javert knows firsthand what kind of shit happens to you, and when he looks at Cosette, he can't find it in himself to blame Valjean at all.

He takes another sip, gazing at Valjean.“Did I ever tell you about my mother?”

Valjean shakes his head. “I can say with absolute truth that I would remember if you had ever spoken of your mother.” It’s his personal theory that Javert had sprung fully formed from the head of Lady Justice just as Athena had done so from the brow of Zeus, but he’s never had any confirmation.

“Yeah, well,” Javert studies the bottle in his hands. “She was a hooker.”

Valjean’s expression softens at this admission. “Javert.”

Javert keeps his focus on his drink. If he looks at Valjean’s face, well. “My dad was always in and out of prison. They never married, anyway, when he _was_ there, I stayed out of his way as much as possible. And when he wasn’t, I avoided her customers.” He takes another drink. “What I’m saying is, Fantine did her best, okay, but she did it, and she shielded Cosette somehow, so stop beating yourself up about it cause she could have turned out a hell of a lot worse.” He grins crookedly. “She could have wanted to be a cop.”

Valjean chokes on his laughter. “How did that even happen?” It’s something he’s always wondered, and now even more so with Javert’s talking about his past.

Javert shrugs. “It just did. I hated the police growing up, but later, when this one guy was beating my mom up and the neighbors called the cops, I realized the cop who took me away wasn’t there to hurt anyone. He was there to help.” He smiles ruefully. “Still hurt like hell though.”

“And your parents…” Valjean asks tentatively.

Javert takes another drink. “My mom died when I was fifteen. He’s either still in prison or out. I don’t much give a shit either way.” Some things in life Javert has no regrets about and not keeping in contact with his dad is one of those.

Going to the bar that night, kneeling in front of that glory hole is another. As long as he lives, Javert isn’t goig to regret that. He eyes Valjean. Jean Valjean with his fucking eyes, and his, oh, _everything_. Javert doesn't have the words for the way Valjean's looking at him right now.

Clearly it’s a night for confessions because Javert just keeps on spilling them.

"You know, you stopped me from doing something stupid once."

Valjean slugs back the last of tequila in his glass and reaches for the bottle. "How's that?"

Javert leans back. "I wasn't getting anywhere in the force. Nothing was progressing." He'd thought too much about his mom in those days, drinking too much. "And there simply wasn't any point in the everyday. I mean, I had work to do, but it didn't _mean_ anything. And I kept going for these long walks every night, you know the kind where you just don't care where you end up, that kind of walk. And one night I ended up on this bridge," he clears his throat and keeps going even if he doesn't like how Valjean's looking at him.

"Anyway, I was just thinking about it, and then I got a call from my chief. He told me you'd done a runner, and just like that I had something again. Something tangible to work on," it sounds pathetic when he says it aloud, Javert knows that. Should have kept his fucking mouth shut.

Valjean just leans over and grabs him around the neck, half dragging him across the table. "You idiot. Never ever," the rest of his words are lost as he kisses Javert.

Javert has both his hands on Valjean’s face, holding him there as they kiss over the table top.

Finally Valjean pulls back with a gasp. “Bed.”

Javert just nods. Valjean stumbles toward the bed and Javert catches him, somehow they're still kissing and this is wrong, Cosette could wake up at any moment, but Valjean's mouth is on his neck, hungry and needy and Javert can't think any more. He just wants.

Valjean gets his shirt off and starts licking down Javert’s chest. "Fuck me," Valjean licks at Javert's nipple. "Just come on and fuck me, Javert."

"You might regret that in the morning." Javert tells him even as his dick wants to do that very thing right the fuck now.

Valjean pulls off to stare at him. "Come on, we've both wanted that ever since you first bent me over your patrol car." He continues licking down Javert's stomach. "I could feel your hard-on then."

"You're remembering the past with rosy tinted erections." Javert struggles with his pants and finally gets them off, which is good timing cause Valjean’s nuzzling along his hip.

"You wanted me then and you want me now," Valjean sucks wetly on his thigh. "Come on. I want you, want your dick."

"Good enough." Javert rolls him over on his back. He leans in, his mouth close to Valjean's ear. "I'm gonna make you come so hard you'll remember it the rest of your life."

"No wake Cosette," Valjean whispers exaggeratedly, and Javert nods, tugging at Valjean's pants. He gets them off and then Valjean's boxers before he reaches for the lube, thoughtfully stashed in the bedside drawer.

Valjean just starts humping his hip impatiently like a dog. "Come on, fuck me.”

“Hold your fucking horses.” Javert’s struggling to get the lube open. He slicks his fingers and turns back to Valjean who’s settled flat on his back, grinning up at him.

"Are you sure?”

Valjean just leans up to grab at Javert’s cock. "Come on. I know you want to. You must want to. Seen you. Staring at my ass."

"It's a good ass.” Javert concedes reluctantly. “For a criminal."

"Whatever, you love my ass." Valjean leans up to kiss Javert’s lips. “I want you. To fuck me. Now.”

Well, how can Javert possibly refuse that?

This time it starts slow and easy, messy and just plain ridiculous. He gets two slick fingers into Valjean, stretching him with careful measured strokes, but Javert's too drunk to keep to that, and anyway it’s impossible with the way Valjean keeps kissing him, urging on.

“Want your dick.” Valjean tells him, and Javert’s only fucking human.

He grabs Valjean’s hips and thrusts in, a little too quick perhaps, but Valjean just grips his ass and growls, “ _More_ ,”

So Javert gives him more. He settles his hands on Valjean’s ass, holding him there on the bed as he thrusts into him. Valjean meets him thrust for thrust, and Javert’s kissing him so hard, he thinks his lips will hate him in the morning, but right now he doesn’t give a fuck.

Valjean slides one hand down Javert’s back, arching his own. “Jesus christ.”

Javert just grips the headboard as he fucks harder, wanting to leave his mark on Valjean. He wants to bruise the man so badly Valjean won’t be able to sit down without thinking of him, and he’ll just have to keep thinking of Javert for weeks to come.

Valjean cups the back of his neck. “Hey.”

Javert pauses, mid-thrust staring down at him.

Valjean gazes up at him, suddenly silent, just staring at Javert like he’s never seen him before.

“What?” Javert’s voice is ragged.

Valjean wets his lips, starts to speak and then, just shakes his head. “I’m glad you told me about your past.”

Javert freezes. Of all the things to bring up during sex, Valjean picks _that?_

“Hey.” Valjean’s voice is soft and tender; he reaches up to cup Javert’s cheek. “Come on, don’t lose focus now.” He gives a half laugh.

“As if I could.” Javert whispers. He turns his head to suck at Valjean’s hand, teasing the skin between Valjean’s thumb and forefinger.

Valjean whimpers and Javert goes ahead, sucking Valjean’s thumb into his mouth. Valjean just groans at that, and then they’re moving together, fiercer and faster than before until Valjean clenches around Javert, gripping him hard and holding him there until Javert surrenders everything to him.


	17. Chapter 17

Valjean’s still sleeping soundly when Javert wakes up. He studies Valjean’s face for a moment, thinking how the man looks peaceful for the first time in days.

But he can’t stick around here, staring at Valjean’s face all day. This is his chance.

Javert carefully crawls out of bed, tugging his boxers back on. He finds his shirt on the floor and pulls it on. His jeans are next and then he reaches for his shoes. When he turns around, he freezes. Cosette’s sitting on the end of her bed, just watching him.

“Where are you going?”

“Shhhh,” he glances warily at the sleeping figure of Valjean. “I’ll just…I have to go outside for a bit, and then,” Javert pauses, and then what? He can’t promise her that he’s coming back. Can’t do that thing where Valjean says everything will be all right. “I just have to go,” he repeats, hoping that will be enough for her.

Cosette starts crying. Not noisy sobs, the kind that would wake Valjean, but the silent desperate kind of crying that you do only when you _have_ to let it out, but can’t afford to have anyone hear you for the fear of the consequences. She doesn’t make a single sound as the tears roll down her face.

Javert kneels in front of her. “Hey, Cosette, it’s not that, but you’ll barely notice I’m gone.”

Her shoulders rack with sobs and tentatively, Javert touches her chin. “I’m doing this so that your papa can see you again. Okay?”

“Promise?” Cosette mutters, wiping at her tear-sodden cheeks.

That at least he can do. “I promise.”

Cosette wraps her arms around his neck, hiding her face in his neck.

There’s a sound behind them and Javert turns his head to see Valjean standing there, clad in only his boxers. It’d be a perfect sight if Valjean wasn’t aiming the gun at him.

“Get up.”

“Valjean, you don’t have to do this.”

“Cosette,”

But she clings fiercely to Javert. He has to be the one to push her away. Valjean motions him over to the chair. Javert stands his ground, testing Valjean.

 “Valjean, give yourself up. If you plead your case right, you could be out in less than two years.”

“And Cosette?”  Valjean waits for him to answer that one.

“Get a good lawyer. You’re family. It’s a good chance. That fact that her father dumped her into the system works in your favor, despite the kidnapping charge.” Javert’s not lying to him, just telling him the flat truth. “I’m not saying it’s a sure thing, but it’s the best chance you have of keeping her in the long run. Legally.”

He eyes Valjean who remains silent. “If you’re worrying about going back to prison,”

“It’s not that.” Valjean raises the gun again and finally Javert moves over to sit in the chair. “I don’t want to, that’s for certain, but it’s not that. I promised Fantine I would look after Cosette and if I can’t do that, then I’ve only failed her again.”

Javert leans forward. “Listen to me, you dumb bastard. You didn’t fail anyone. You made some mistakes, who hasn’t? But if you do this, it _will_ ruin your life and Cosette’s and you’ll never see her again. The law will make certain of that.” There’s sadness in his voice and Valjean stares at him.

“The law isn’t cruel,” Javert tells him. “It’s meant to be fair, to be just. Just once trust me, Valjean and I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to make certain it serves you fairly.”

 “I believe you would.” Valjean pulls his arms behind his back. “But I don’t trust them. I can’t trust the law like you do, Javert. I can’t.”

“Valjean.”

Valjean just cuffs his wrists and gags him again.

 *  *  *

It’s an hour before Valjean gets the call he’s been waiting for.

In the meantime Valjean packs up everything, removing every trace that they’ve been in this motel room. He can do that easily enough, but he can’t erase his memories. Cosette listening to Javert’s stories.  Fucking Javert on the bathroom sink.

Javert, angry frustrated Javert. Valjean feels like shit leaving him like this, but he can’t take Javert with him, not any farther than this. So far all he’s done is keep Javert hostage in a motel. He’s not adding anything more complicated than that for Javert to deal with.

 *  *  *

Valjean has everything ready to go when the call comes.

“Right. Yeah. See you there.” He hangs up and goes over to Javert.

“Checkout is at noon. Housekeeping might even be along before then.” He lays the key to the handcuffs on the table.

Javert doesn’t even have the energy to glare at hm.

Valjean hesitates, then he picks up his duffle bag in one hand and takes Cosette by the other. “It’s time to go.”

Cosette pauses at the door, and looks back wistfully. Valjean gives her a second, and nudges her. “Come on, Cosette.”

The door closes behind them and Javert is left alone.

*  *  *

Housekeeping doesn’t make it to the room until after two. By then Javert’s angry again, and practically roars at the mousy little cleaning woman who fumbles trying to unlock the handcuffs.

When his wrists are finally free, Javert drops them and the key into his pocket. “Phone!” He snaps at her. “I need a fucking phone.”

He follows her to the office and glares at her until she leaves him the fuck alone.

“It’s me.”

“Javert?” His chief sounds dubious.

“Sir, yeah, I know, it’s a long story.” He pauses, as the man starts rattling off information at him, “Wait, he did _what?_ ”

 


	18. Chapter 18

Javert drums his fingers on the car armrest, wishing the driver would go fucking faster already. It took half an hour for a car from the nearest police station to get to the motel and pick him up. By the time it arrived, he still hadn't made sense of what he’d been told. Now, sitting in the passenger seat, fingers itching to take over the wheel, Javert _still_ can't believe it.

Apparently 11km outside of Paris, Jean Valjean surrendered himself to the police. Currently he’s being held in Montreuil, while they process his case to transfer him to Paris.

Javert’s already making calls concerning Cosette. It helps take his mind off _what the fuck is Valjean playing at?_ As much as he hoped for something like this, now that Valjean’s gone and done it, Javert simply doesn’t know what to make of it. What about the money? Was Valjean caught with it? What’s Valjean being charged with? How’s Cosette doing with the situation? What the fuck is going on?

Underneath everything Javert’s fucking terrified that Valjean’s somehow got himself into an even worse situation than before and now everything’s fucked.

*  *  *

When Javert finally gets to the Montreuil police station, he immediately corners the officer on duty.

 “When they arrested Valjean, was he only found with the kid?”

The officer gives him an odd look. “What else would they have found with him?”

Javert shrugs. “Just curious.” He reads through the report quickly.  “So where is she?"

"Who?"

Punching the offier won't fix anything, but god, does Javert want to do it. "Where’s the little girl? Cosette?”

“Oh, her. Protective services took her into Paris.”

“Shit, already?” Javert glances down the hallway to the holding cells. He wants to be in there while they question Valjean. He _needs_ to talk to Valjean and find out what made him change his mind. But he knows what Valjean will say if Javert dares to do that and let Cosette just be taken away without doing anything. Fuming, he closes the file, smacking it down on the counter.

“Keep me updated on his case. You got it?”

“Yes, sir.” The officer obviously doesn’t see the importance here, but the look in Javert’s eyes clearly convinces him to agree.

Javert turns around and heads into Paris, leaving Valjean behind.

*  *  *

He continues to make calls all the way into the city, swearing at the other drivers.

 *  *  *

Javert finally gets to the Parisian office and leaves his car for someone else to park, taking the steps two at a time. There’s an officer lounging in the hallway, lazily watching the door to the office where Cosette is being kept.

Javert stalks over to him, trying to hide his relief at seeing her through the window. “I’ll take over from here, officer.”

The police officer merely yawns at him. “Not exactly your department is it, Inspector?”

Javert glares at him and the guard wilts.

Javert pushes the door open. “Hey, Cosette,” he greets her tentatively, wondering if she’ll freak out at seeing him. Technically he’s really nothing but a stranger to her.

Cosette looks up at him, and a smile spreads across her face. She’s up out of her chair and across the room in an instant, flinging her arms around him tightly. Javert doesn’t hesitate, scooping her up.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. It’s okay.”

Her grip doesn’t lessen so Javert just pats her back as comfortingly as he can and sits down.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

For a few minutes she’s silent, and then, “Papa said he had to go talk to the police, and that he loved me very much,” she draws a breath, “and that you’d be here to look after me in a bit.”

Javert feels a claw of panic at his chest. _Oh, fuck you very much, Valjean. You can’t use me to promise things to her._ What if he hadn’t come?

Javert can’t bring himself to think of that so he just holds her.  “I am here, Cosette, but you know...you can’t…you can’t stay with me.”

Her arms tighten and Javert tries to pull her free so he can see her face. He sits her on his lap, gazing down at her. She looks so young to be dealing with any of this.

“Here’s the thing.” His voice is as gentle as he can possibly make it. “You’re going to go with a lady who will ask you some questions and then she’ll be the one to take you to a place to stay at for a bit while we get everything sorted out, okay?”

Cosette rubs at her eyes. “What kind of questions?”

“Questions about how Valjean looks after you, stuff like that,” Javert thinks about the events of the last few days. “Uh, Cosette, you know you’re not supposed to lie, right?”

She blinks at him. “Papa says sometimes it’s necessary.”

“Yeah, well, he would say that, but the thing is, it isn’t a good idea to lie. But sometimes you don’t have to tell somebody _everything_ , you know?” Oh god, he hopes she understands this.

Cosette thinks about this.

“You mean like you and Papa kissing?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.”

“Or the wrestling,” Cosette adds helpfully.

Javert chokes. “Yes, don’t tell them about that.”

“Okay.” Cosette agrees easily enough.

“Okay?”

She nods, her hand clasping his suddenly. “Will you come and see me at the place?”

“I give you my word as a police inspector,”

“And storyteller,” she interrupts.

“I give you my word as a police inspector _and_ storyteller, that I will come visit you.” Javert hugs her then; he can’t fucking help it.  Then he pulls back and looks her squarely in the eyes. “I also promise it won’t be anything at all like the place Valjean took you away from, got it?. But if for any reason you’re unhappy or scared, or anything, you call me, okay?” He tucks the card with his number inside her front dress pocket.

“Okay.” Cosette whispers.

Javert takes her hand and they walk out of the police station, down the steps to the waiting social service lady. Cosette gives Javert a final hug and then Javert watches her get safely into the car. He raises a hand when she waves at him through the car window. Javert watches the car drive away, and then she’s gone.  

He stands there on the steps, momentarily at a loss before straightening his shoulders and heading back into the station. There’s work to do.

 *  *  *

First he files a report of the last few days, even though his chief tries to tell him to take a few days off.

“Go home, Javert. You’ve had a long week.”

“When I’m done with this.” It's a bare bones account of what happened, but it will do for now.

At last he leaves the report on his chief’s desk and heads out.

 *  *  *

His car’s still at the bar. Javert takes a taxi out to collect it. He stands there a minute, gazing at the bar. He can hear the music from the parking lot.

He gets in his car and drives home.

 *  *  *

His apartment is dark and empty. Javert switches on a light and just looks around at the place. The bed’s made, like he left it, neat and tidy. The dishes in the sink combined with the week old garbage smell slightly so he opens a window to clear out the stink. The milk in the fridge has gone bad. He pours it down the drain, wrinkling his nose as he does. There’s beer though, so Javert opens one of those and goes to stand by the open window.

The stars are out, though he can barely see them over the city lights. He's back in Paris where he belongs now. Javert takes a sip of beer and stands there, gazing at the silent, infinite stars.


	19. Chapter 19

Javert goes into work the next morning, well aware that he's way too cheerful about it. He gets a cup of coffee from the break room and goes to his desk. His good mood lessens when he sees the mountain of paperwork waiting for him there.

“Hey, Javert, chief wants to see you in his office.”

“Right.” He gladly leaves the paperwork behind and heads down the hall.

Rapping on the door, Javert pushes it open. “Chief, you wanted to see me?”

Chief Bishop just sighed at him. “What’re you even doing here today, Javert?”

“Getting back to work, sir?” _Don't send me home, please don't send me home._ There is nothing to do at his apartment.

“Don’t you want a break after that ordeal?”

Javert coughs. “Sir, I’ve had nothing but a "break" for the last week. No offense, but I’d really like to get back to work.”

His chief leans back in his chair. “Tell you what, you take today off, relax over the weekend, hell, go get drunk, get laid, and then come back on Monday, and I won’t say a word. Deal?”

Javert sighs, but nods. “All right.” He doesn't want a break, damn it. He wants something to distract his mind. Any other time he would totally take this chance to go get laid, but right now, he's just not in the fucking mood.

“One thing before you go,” Bishop thumbs open the report Javert turned in yesterday. “You’re not pressing any charges against Valjean?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t do anything to me, sir.” Javert carefully doesn’t think of the multitude of memories he now has of Valjean doing numerous things to him.

“He kept you handcuffed  in a motel for four days, Javert. I think that counts for something.”

“Sir, he didn’t make me go to that motel. I stumbled into that one on my own two feet, and he didn’t,” Javert takes a deep breath. “He was just trying to keep his niece.”

“If you testify against him,” Bishop starts, but Javert just shakes his head.

“I won’t testify against him, and I’m not pressing any charges.” He’s not adding to Valjean’s offenses.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am, sir.”

“Very well.” Bishop nods at the door. “See you on Monday, Javert.”

“Monday, sir.” Javert mutters morosely and goes.

*  *  *

It’s a long weekend. Javert spends it putting together his files on the temporary foster home Cosette’s been placed with. He tells himself he’s doing it just to keep a record of things, that there's no other reason at all.

He does a little digging on a few other matters too, just in case he needs the info.

*  *  *

On Monday Javert gets a lot of flack for being held hostage by one of his former arrests. He doesn’t care. It’s such a relief to be back in the office, he doesn’t give a shit what they say.

*  *  *

Valjean’s sentenced to sixteen months for illegal transporting a minor. After the sentencing he’s transferred to La Santé Prison. Félix Tholomyès tries to get the sentence extended, but since he had signed Cosette over to the state, the judge rejects his demand.

Cosette’s officially placed with the foster family.

*  *  *

It still takes Javert a week after that to work up the nerve to go see Valjean.

*  *  *

The first time Javert visits Valjean in prison he feels like a fool. Nobody else thinks anything of it, although he knows if his chief learns of it, he’ll get a question or two.

Valjean looks faintly surprised when he sees Javert sitting there at the table in the visitor’s room. He looks around, like he's not sure he's the one Javert's there to see before making his way over to the table.

"Surprised?"

"They said I had a visitor, but they didn't say who, so yeah...I'm surprised." Valjean sits, waiting for Javert to speak as he looks around. His shoulders are tensed, his expression agitated.

Javert leans forward. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why are you here?” He’s so brusque, it makes Javert pause. What the fuck is he even doing here? What made him think this was a good idea?

“I have no clue. Call me crazy, but I kinda thought you’d want to know how Cosette’s doing.” Javert stands and Valjean’s hand shoots out to close around his wrist.

“I’m an idiot okay? I do want that. More than anything.” He pauses, and _there’s_ that look that makes Javert’s cock fucking _yearn_ , “Well, okay, not more than anything.”

Javert sits because he wants to, not because he has to. It has nothing to do with the hard on he’s now sporting. Damn Valjean and his voice.

“It’s just,” Valjean sits back. “I’m not used to being in here and seeing you here and feeling _happy_ about that. All right? It’s not my usual response.”

“How do you think I feel?” Javert brushes his hair back tiredly. “I don’t know what the fuck I'm doing here.”

Valjean grins for a minute, then it fades. “It’s just I thought…when I turned myself in that this was all over, that we wouldn’t…”

“If that’s what you want.” Javert says stiffly. Fuck. He shouldn’t have come. What was he thinking?

“Is that what you want?” Valjean asks instead of answering.

“Yeah, obviously. So I won’t have to ever deal with you again.”

“Deal with me. Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Valjean’s mouth crooks upward.

“Better than anything you could come up with,” Javert mutters.

Finally Valjean takes pity on him and changes the subject. “Tell me about Cosette.”

So Javert does.

He has a full report on the older couple looking after Cosette, statistics on how all the children they’ve fostered over the last fifteen years are doing now and several pictures of Cosette helping in the garden, getting read to and playing with their dog. Valjean goes through all of it, lingering over the pictures.

“Maybe she’s better off there.” He mutters. “They seem like nice people.”

“They are nice.” Javert’s made fucking sure of that. “But she wants you.”

He gathers up the papers, pretending he doesn’t see the tears in Valjean’s eyes. As he scoops up the last file, Valjean’s hand lands on his wrist again. “Thank you. For all of this.” Javert didn’t have to do any of this, and they both know it. “It means…”

Javert just nods. He pushes the picture of Cosette with the dog across the table towards Valjean. “Keep that one.”

“You sure? They won’t.” Valjean clutches at it, like he’s afraid to accept it only to have it taken away again.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Javert will personally make certain that Valjean’s allowed to keep his picture. He gets up, then pauses. “Oh…”

“What?” Valjean’s still gazing at the picture.

“What made you change your mind?” Javert has to know.

Valjean shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was so close, and I just suddenly thought, what if you were right? What if we were caught, and they never let me see Cosette again? I couldn’t handle that, maybe it’s selfish, but I’d rather live in a world where she might come and visit me in prison then one where I’d never see her again. So I turned myself in.”

“Decided to trust the law after all?” Javert quips after a minute. Absurdly, he wants to thank Valjean for doing this, which is crazy because it’s just what Valjean should have done in the first place.

“Not so much.” Valjean’s eyes are steady. “I decided to trust you.”

Javert's speechless. He stands there, holding the file and just staring at Valjean.

“I…”

The buzzer sounds then and the guard comes over then to take Valjean back to his cell.

Valjean stands up. “Thank you again, inspector.”

Javert just nods dumbly.

Valjean’s almost at the door before Javert can speak. “Hey, Valjean.”

Valjean turns.

“I’ll do my best.” It sounds idiotic. Javert practically kicks himself as soon as the words have left his mouth.

But Valjean just nods at him. “I know you will.”

Then he’s through the door, and out of sight.


	20. Chapter 20

Javert spends the next week as deeply buried in work as he can manage, trying to think about anything but Valjean. He tells himself that on Saturday night he'll go out, he’ll get drunk. He'll meet someone, get laid. It’s about time. He deserves to get laid, right? He doesn't have to do _this,_ whatever the fuck it is. Nobody's forcing him to do this. Nobody except himself.

So it's his duty to keep Valjean informed of how Cosette's doing, since he’s the one who told Valjean she'd be okay.

_That's_ his duty. And Javert would like to lie and say that it's his duty making him go and see Valjean, but it's not and he knows it.

He wants to see Valjean simply because he _wants_ to see him.

It doesn’t mean he should actually go though, and Javert knows that too.

 *  *  *

Javert has never abused his powers for personal reasons, but halfway through the week, he uses his resources and takes a little drive out of Paris.

The house isn’t hard to find. It's a brick two-story, completely run-down, on the outskirts of Rouen. Javert sits in his car with his coffee and waits, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he keeps one eye on the house, one eye on the street.

The grass in the garden is overgrown. There’s a rusted little bike in the corner of the yard. The whole situation is pathetic and wretched and Javert wishes he’d brought something to distract himself from this shitty waiting.

Thenardier gets home a little after ten o’clock. It’s clear he’s more than a little drunk from the way he lurches out of his car, stumbling over the curb. Javert’s slightly disappointed. He was in the mood for a fair fight, something brutal and nasty.

But he’s not above threatening a drunk, in fact he rather excels at it.

Javert steps out of his car and crosses the street. He catches Thenardier before he’s managed to open the garden gate. He grabs his arms, twisting them behind his back as he slams Thenardier up against his car.

“Whoo’rre yoouu?” Thenardier slurs.

“Justice, asshole.” Javert knees him sharp in the groin and the man crumples with a pitiful moan. He lets Thenardier cry there on the pavement for a minute before hauling him upright and slamming him into the car window again. “You ever try to look after kids again, ever try to take money for it again, ever even think about it, and I’ll personally break both your legs, and rupture your spleen, you got it?” He shakes him once for good measure.

“God, yes, yes,” Thenardier is blubbering helplessly, staring at him with wide-bat-shit scared eyes.

 Javert punches him just once more in the gut for good and lets him fall. He leaves Thenardier curled there on the pavement and returns to his car.

He drives back to Paris in a good mood.

The Thenardiers had other kids fostering with them.  Javert’s read the file. There will be an investigator from Child Services there in the morning. They’ll take one look at the kids and the house and the Thenardiers will be _done_. 

He’s done something good tonight, and he feels pretty okay about it.  

 *  *  *

On Friday Javert files an official request regarding legal visiting rights to see Cosette. It’s granted, naturally, because Tholomyès can’t make any objections, and the foster parents can tell that he cares about her.

 *  *  *

On Sunday morning, Javert lies there in bed staring at the crack in his ceiling and wishing…well, it’s certainly not getting anything done. At last he drags himself out of bed and goes to shower.

In the shower he debates pros and cons. Pros are that he’ll tell Valjean about Cosette, and he’ll feel better about that. Cons are that he’ll feel stupid as hell after it’s done.

_What if he disappoints Valjean?_

Javert decides it’s perfectly natural to have a beer for breakfast. Maybe two.

 *  *  *

After that, he goes for a run. He goes grocery shopping, spending way too long in each aisle of the store simply because he can. After he's put all the groceries away, he debates rearranging the contents of his fridge.

That’s when Javert gives up.

*  *  *

He drives out to the prison, sweating the whole way.

*  *  *

"Wasn't sure you'd come again." Valjean says quietly.

"That's what she said," Javert says automatically, and tries not to blush. He's a grown man for fucks sake. What the hell is he doing?

Valjean just laughs. His eyes fall upon Javert’s bruised knuckles. “What happened to your hand?”

“Oh,” Javert drops his hand underneath the table. “It ran into some asshole’s face.”

“Really.” Valjean waits, but that’s all Javert’s saying on that topic.

After Javert’s updated Valjean on Cosette’s week and gone silent, wondering if he should leave, Valjean just looks at him. "So…what's going on with you? Been going out?"

"Oh yeah, I go out. All the time." Javert mutters.

"You ever go back to that bar?" Valjean's tone is sly.

"Maybe." Javert says just as sly.

"Oh?" Valjean considers this. "Seen any nice cocks?"

"None as nice as yours." Javert tells him boldly, though his tongue feels thick in his mouth. He’s flirting like a kid. _Just stop talking._

"Good." Valjean says way too quickly.

They eye each other, and just look away again.

* * *

When Javert gets up to go, he hesitates for half a second, and then says, “See you next week.”

He pretends Valjean’s smile doesn’t do anything to him.

Obviously, it's a fucking lie.


	21. Chapter 21

Javert raps on the door, taking half a step back as he waits. He fidgets, tugging at his collar. From within the house comes the sound of running feet and a small excited voice calling out.

“It’s Javert, it’s Javert!”

Cosette flings the door open and beams up at him.

“Hey, Cosette.”

Cosette grabs his hand, holding it, drawing him inside the house. “You kept your promise.”

“I said I would.”

She takes him into the kitchen to introduce him to Madame Fauchelevent before they head out for the afternoon.

*  *  *

Javert takes Cosette to the park. They walk all the way around the path while Cosette tells Javert all about life with the Fauchelevents. The Fauchelevent’s dog is very nice, Cosette thinks, but a puppy would really be the best.

“No doubt.” Javert agrees.

After they walk, Javert pushes Cosette on the swings. “I’m going to see Valjean tomorrow. Is there anything you want me to tell him for you?”

“Tell him I love him very very very much and give him a kiss for me.” Cosette says promptly.

Javert snorts, but Cosette waits until he promises.

*  *  *

 Javert gets the photos developed before driving to the prison the next day. He’s got pictures of Cosette on the swing, Cosette climbing a tree, Cosette petting a puppy she met on their walk.

“She’s puppy crazy.” Javert tells him.

Valjean looks through all the pictures, grinning at every one. “You took these? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Javert shrugs, “She wanted to go to the park.” _What’s the big deal?_

Valjean eyes him. “ _You_ took her to the park?”

“Yeah, I took her to the fucking park.” Javert brushes his hair back. “Stop acting like that’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever fucking heard.” He suddenly remembers the message Cosette gave him. “Oh, she gave me a message for you.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Valejean’s going through the pictures again.

“She wanted me to tell you that she loves you very very very much, and,” Javert hesitates, then, _oh what the hell_ , “She wanted me to give you a big kiss.”

At that Valjean looks up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Valjean just sits there, and Javert realizes he’s waiting.

Javert just sighs and leans over the table. His lips brush Valjean’s in the lightest of touches, and then Valjean’s hand is on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Javert’s hand tangles in the collar of Valjean’s uniform, and he wants to push Valjean down on the table and fuck him right there in the prison visiting room.Valjean’s tongue is in his mouth, and Javert’s groaning into the kiss. He’s fucking _dying_ here.

Valjean pulls back, lips swollen and eyes dark. “Tell Cosette I love her too.”

“Yeah,” Javert croaks. “I’ll do that.” His hard-on is really fucking obvious as he makes his way out.

*  *  *

Somehow as the weeks pass and turn into months, they fall into a pattern.

On Saturdays Javert picks Cosette up for the day. Sometimes Cosette chooses where they go. Sometimes it’s Javert’s turn to pick and it’s a surprise. He has a whole list of places to take her.

He takes her to the zoo, which depresses the hell out of him (the bears stare at him resentfully) but Cosette enjoys it. He takes her to the library and helps her sign up for her first library card.

The park becomes a regular favorite. They have a bench where Cosette likes Javert to read to her. Sometimes she pretends it’s a pirate ship, sometimes it’s a space ship. Sometimes Javert gets to be the captain or pilot, but more often than not he’s callously sold back to the imperial forces so Cosette can fly away free.

On Sundays Javert drives to the prison and spends the hour and a half of allotted visitor time telling Valjean everything that happened the previous day. There are always photos to show him, and Valjean keeps a couple. The rest Javert takes back home with him and puts them in the scrapbook Cosette is putting together for her papa.

 *  *  *

Cosette wants to visit him, but Valjean doesn’t want her to come to the prison.

“She wants to see you.” Javert tells him impatiently. “She doesn’t give a shit about any of this.”

“It’s my decision,” Valjean tells him stonily. He’s thought about this long and hard, and he’s decided it’s best if Cosette doesn’t see him in prison. End of story.

“Fine, be a stubborn asshole.” Javert says.

“It’s the right thing.” Valjean mutters.

“Says you.”

*  *  *

Javert takes Cosette to the flower market, where he lets her buy some seeds and a window box for them. They set it up at his apartment and he promises to water it during the week.

Somehow, there’s a bottom shelf on his bookshelf for her books now, as well as the stuffed rabbit Cosette decides needs to stay there to keep Javert company.

They make pizza for dinner and they eat the whole pie between them,.

*  *  *

Javert starts running more, sometimes in the evenings after work. It’s especially good on Sundays when he doesn’t know what to do with all the restless pent-up energery he has left after seeing Valjean.

He starts going back to the gym too. Anything to keep himself distracted during the hours not spent working.

*   *   *

The thing is Valjean’s obviously been working out too.

Somehow the prison uniform makes him look _bigger._ His shoulders seem broader than before, and the way the back of the uniform covers his ass is just plain pornographic. Javert usually spends at least half the visiting time uncomfortably aroused, and feeling guilty as hell because of it.

He’s been jerking off more than he’s done in fucking years. Some Sundays he barely makes it home before he has his hand down his pants. 

Javert takes a great deal of comfort in thinking about getting revenge on Valjean in a variety of ways, even though it’s obviously not Valjean's fault that he's a complete pervert.

 *  *  *

As for Valjean, he lives for Sunday afternoon. Hearing about Cosette, just seeing Javert…Valjean doesn’t have the words for how much it means. He thinks about trying to tell Javert, but every time the words fail him. Nothing he can say will ever express his gratitude well enough.


	22. Chapter 22

 

Three months in, they hit a rough patch. Valjean gets melancholy, refusing to see Javert.

*  *  *

“He’s refused all visitors.” The guard looks at Javert almost pityingly.

“Ah, right.” Javert hesitates a moment, this week’s folder of pictures and notes in his hand. “Thanks.”

He leaves, reasoning it out as he drives back to his apartment. Valjean’s probably just having a rough day. It’s a shitty situation all around, and it’s only natural that at least once he wouldn’t feel like being reminded that he’s stuck in there while Cosette’s growing up. Sure. Javert can understand that.

He puts the folder aside for next week.

*  *  *

But next week it happens again.

*  *  *

And the next.  

On that Sunday, Javert gets one of the guards to take a note to Valjean. He scrawls _What the hell?_ across a strip of paper and gives it to the guard to deliver.

Valjean’s response is quick and to the point. _Do something else with your life. Go out and get laid._

Javert crumples the paper up hard in his fist and stalks out.

*  *  *

He’s fucking pissed.

Valjean wants him to go get laid? Fine. He can do that.

Javert goes out to a bar, one of his regular haunts that he hasn’t visited in a while. He tries to chat up a guy, but when they head out to the parking lot to leave, there's a brawl going on. Javert steps in to break it up. It feels good to get into the middle of a fight, to finally have something tangible to deal with.

By the time it's done, the guy's gone and Javert doesn't even care. 

*  *  *

He goes back to the prison next Sunday with a black eye, bruised cheek and a busted lip. This time the note he sends Valjean just says _Please_.

When the guard returns, he has Valjean with him.

Javert stops pacing around the visiting room and sits down at their table.

Valjean eyes him. “What happened?” He wants to reach across the table and make sure Javert’s okay. His hands stay in his lap.

Javert shrugs off the question. “Do I need to stop? Is that what you want? I can stop coming if that’s what you want.” He’s babbling. He needs to shut the fuck up now. But he has to know.

“What?” Valjean blinks at him.

“This, whatever the fuck it is,”

Valjean sighs. “I’m going to be in here for a long time. Javert, I can’t,”

“I’ll mail you reports on Cosette, if that’s all you want.” Javert stares at the table. His busted lip hurts. Everything hurts.

“You know fucking well I want more than that. But how is that fair?”

“Fair?” Javert echoes like he doesn’t understand the notion.

“To you,” Valjean repeats patiently, like Javert’s too dumb to understand the concept. “It’s not fair to _you_.”

“Don’t you think I should get to decide that?” Javert tells him tiredly. “If I want to spend my time coming to visit you and jerking off in-between, who gives a shit?”

Valjean raises his eyebrows, momentarily distracted. “Jerking off, eh?”

“Yeah.” Javert clears his throat. “Feels like I’m a fucking teenager again.”

“Wait, you mean,” Valjean stares at him. “You really haven’t gone out all this time?”

Javert shrugs. “Why go out and get laid when I can come see you in handcuffs for free?”

Valjean chuckles in spite of himself. “Always knew you were a kinky bastard.”

“Yeah, well, it’s you turn to wear them after all.”

“I wondered when you’d bring that up.” Valjean leans back in his chair. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Can’t stop thinking about it.”Javert shifts position, palming himself under the table. He looks Valjean straight in the eye, “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

Valjean leans in, “You think I’m not?” He lowers his voice. “At night, that’s all I can think about in the dark. You, waking up in you.”

Javert grinds his hand against his crotch. “Fuck.” He’s gonna come in his pants if Valjean keeps it up.

And he does of course. Javert always knew Valjean was a bastard.

“You, in that bar. Jesus, when I opened that door, and saw you there on your knees, so fucking perfect with your hand down your pants, lips all shiny from _my_ cock. You know what I wanted to do right then?”

Javert manages not to groan aloud as he comes, but it’s a near thing. It’s a minute before he can focus enough to respond.

“Run as far away as you could?” He remembers that moment so clearly.

Valjean smiles, really smiles, that broad wide-mouthed smile that makes Javert want to believe anything he says, stupid sappy shit, anything at all. “I wanted to kiss you.”

“Fuck you. You did not.” Javert’s sitting there in his own come ike a fucking kid, and he wants to believe Valjean.

“Think I know what I wanted.” Valjean tells him lightly. “Like just now. I wanted to make you come in your pants. So I did.”

“Asshole,” Javert moans.

“That’s why you like me.” Valjean grins.

Javert tugs his coat down as he leaves, but it doesn’t quite hide the damp patch on his jeans.

 *  *  *

Javert thinks that conversation dealt with the matter, but next Sunday Valjean’s not there again.

He doesn’t respond to Javert’s note either.

Javert drives back to Paris, slamming the accelerator down to the floor the whole way.

He goes home to his apartment and gets drunk in the middle of the afternoon. After a while he comes up with the brilliant idea to make a list of the reasons Valjean is a fucking idiot and not worth his time.

Later when Javert sobers up, he can’t even read it. The only thing he can make out is just the word _dickhead_ scrawled several times.

*  *  *

It seems too cruel to keep Javert tangled up in his life. Valjean lies on his bunk, waiting out the visiting time. He can’t be with Javert, not really, and he doesn’t have the right to do this to him for the rest of his sentence. It makes sense to just let him go, even if that’s not what Valjean wants to do.

*  *  *

On Thursday though, Valjean’s taken from his cell and escorted to the infirmary for a court-ordered drug search. Apparently somebody thinks he’s smuggling drugs into the prison.

He’s not entirely surprised when he’s taken to an examination room where Javert’s waiting.

“I can handle it from here.” Javert tells the guard coolly. The door closes behind the guard and they’re alone for the first time in months.

 “A fucking cavity search?” Valjean glares at him. “Are you kidding me?”

Javert shrugs. “Why didn’t you see me last Sunday?”

“I didn’t want to.” Valjean’s pissed enough that he says it.

It hurts, even if Javert can’t admit it.  He just nods. “So you don’t want to hear about Cosette.”

“You know that’s not it.” Valjean sighs. “But you can’t say I’m suspected of smuggling drugs. That goes on my record.”

“Then don’t pull the shit you’ve been pulling for the last month.” Javert leans in, eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to see me? _Fine_. You tell me that to my face like an adult, and you _mean_ it. It’s the least you owe me. I’ll still update you on Cosette, but you won’t have to see me.” He waits to hear what Valjean will say.

Valjean nods. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath, and then looks around the examination room. “Why in here?”

“Because there are no cameras,” Javert tells him. “I figured if this was our last conversation, I’d probably end up punching you or you me.” Javert shrugs. Probably both.

“There are no cameras in here.” Valjean repeats neutrally.

“No.” Javert braces himself for whatever Valjean throws at him.

“Then I’m not going to waste time punching you.” Valjean reaches out and pulls Javert close, grabbing him as best as he can with his hands cuffed. They’re kissing hard, teeth and tongue, like it’s the first time they've ever seen each other, like they're back in that alley. Valjean grinds against Javert, pushing him into the examination table. Then he’s got Javert’s jeans open, dragging his dick out, jerking him off quickly. Javert’s got his hand down Valjean’s prison uniform, fisting Valjean’s cock in short, desperate strokes. He wants to taste every last bit of Valjean, wants to get his hands everywhere and _fuck_ , Valjean’s just stroking him while grinding into Javert’s palm. The handcuffs keep bumping against Javert’s dick, and he wants to laugh, even as the metal sends a cold sharp jolt through his skin.

They come together in a rush, Javert’s teeth tugging at Valjean’s lip.

It takes Javert a second to realize he’s still breathing. He feels like his heart will never calm down.

Valjean rests his forehead against Javert’s. “I needed that.”

“ _You_.” Javert croaks. “Me.” He raises his head, kissing Valjean long and lingering. “I wish there was more time.”

“Me too.” Valjean brushes his thumb over Javert’s lower lip. “But I’m glad we had this.”

Javert wipes himself off with a tissue. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“What, get you off? No deal.”

Now Javert punches him, just lightly in the chest. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know, but,” Valjean looks at him helplessly.

“I mean it.” Javert tells him. “Any time you don’t want to see me, just tell me, “Done,” and I’ll,”

Valjean clasps the back of his head, kissing him so hard Javert can’t think. His entire body is leaning into Valjean and more than anything he wants to be completely naked, just lying next to Valjean in a bed somewhere, touching him until they’re too numb to do anything more.

“There,” Valjean says at last.

“Yeah,” Javert murmurs.

*  *  *

Javert goes home and sits in the shower for a long time, drinks a beer and listens to the new Bowie single.

Four months down. Twelve left to go.

 


	23. Chapter 23

On Monday morning Bishop thumbs him into his office and Javert goes, trying to remember if there’s some report he’s behind on or something he’s forgetting. He can't think of anything.

Bishop folds his hands together, gazing at him over his fingertips.  “So…the drug search you requested on Valjean?”

_Ah, shit._ “Yes, sir?” Javert sweats.

Bishop eyes him. “You ever think you might be a little too close to this case, inspector?” Maybe it’s a warning. Javert's not officially on the case. He’s a witness. That’s it. That’s all he is.

Javert squares his shoulders, keeping his cool. “All respect, sir, I think I’m as close as I should be.” If Bishop tells him to back off, he’ll have to do it. But Javert knows that won’t last and he’ll hate himself even more than he does now, but he can’t back off from this. Not from Valjean, and not from Cosette either.

Bishop merely nods, like he understands more than he cares to let on. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He gestures at the door and Javert turns to go.

“Oh, and Javert,”

“Yeah?” He looks back.

“Why don’t you bring the kid around some Saturday?”

Javert freezes. “Sir…”

“Show her what you do.” Bishop shrugs. “If she’s anything like my daughter, she’ll love it.”

“Uh, yeah, thank you, sir, good.” Javert’s leg feel unsteady. He can just imagine bringing Cosette into the police station.

And then he _does_ imagine it, and it just makes him grin like an idiot.

*  *  *

Javert keeps thinking over what Valjean said. All week it nags at him until Sunday afternoon when he’s back in the waiting room, twiddling his thumbs.

Valjean takes the seat across from him. “Hey.”

Javert nods at him, sliding the folder over the table. He watches Valjean go through it with the same precision he always does. He has no doubt if he questioned Valjean, Valjean would be able to tell him every last detail of every picture Javert’s shown him over the last four months.

“What is it?” Valjean asks without looking up. It’s clear something’s bugging Javert. Valjean waits for Javert to tell him as he studies the photo of Cosette with her stack of library books. She looks so happy. Valjean touches her face gently. The longing in him is suddenly raw in his chest.  

“That’s not it, you know.” Javert tells him.

“What?” Valjean sets the photo aside.

“It’s not cause you’re an asshole.” Javert’s voice has gone all quiet, like he doesn’t want anyone but Valjean to hear this. “It’s cause you’ve done some stupid-ass shit in your time, but you don’t let it keep you stuck in one place. You keep moving on. You’re stupid at times, but you’re, fuck, somehow you're just _good._ I didn’t even think that was possible, but somehow you are, that's you, and it’s fucking ridiculous, but,” Javert stops, knowing he’s babbling again. He really needs to work on that. “What?”

Valjean’s just grinning. “So you like me.”

“Shut up.” Javert growls, even as Valjean leans over the table to snag his wrist. That’s not what he means. Valjean’s thumb rubs along his wrist. It’s fucking affectionate and Javert knows it.

*  *  *

It goes on like that. Week after week after goddamn week.

*  *  *

_Six months:_

Javert attends Valjean’s sixth month review to speak on his behalf. He has a carefully prepared speech. He’s also made sure Javert has a good lawyer on his case, a passionate young man consumed with righteous indignation over the case, who's set on filing a complaint against the charge of kidnapping. As the father in question has relinquished all claim to Cosette, her only family now is Jean Valjean and Javert’s petitioning to make him Cosette’s sole guardian when he’s released.

The judge just looks at Javert. “And you think that he’d make a good guardian for a young girl? An ex-convict who’s now doing time again for kidnapping her?”

Javert stands. “With all due respect,Madame la présidente, I do. Yes, Jean Valjean is a former ex-convict, but he has done his time. The sentence he’s now serving,” Javert takes a deep breath, “I fully expect it to be repealed. He won’t be in there for that long, and even if he were, he wouldn’t deserve it. It’s my opinion that Valjean will make a good provider for the child once he’s released, and more than that, he will give her what every child in the foster system obviously needs and wants.”

The judge raises an eyebrow. “And what is that, inspector?”

Javert clears his throat. “A home. Someone to love them.”

She sighs, then turns a page, studying something in front of her. “What was that about a drug search that took place two months ago?”

_Fuck._ “Uh, that was a false claim by another prisoner, trying to get Valjean into trouble, your honor. I had to follow through due to protocol, but not once did I expect to find drugs.” He’s lying in court. This is what Valjean has driven him to. _Fuck fuck fuck._

The judge just sighs again. “We’ll give the case our full attention, Inspector Javert.”

Javert nods. “Thank you for your time.”

*  *  *

Valjean looks tired whe Javert sees him next. There are shadows around his eyes, lines on his face that weren't there before.

Javert eyes him. “You sleeping okay?”

“Yeah. Just,” Valjean yawns. "The other prisoners think I'm narking to you."

"They giving you any trouble?" Javert sounds angry and he knows it’s cause he’s trying not to sound concerned.

Valjean shrugs it off. "Who'd be stupid enough to give a guy like me trouble?"

Javert has to agree. Now that he’s once more clad in prison grays, Valjean looks every inch the hard ass criminal Javert always used to assume he was.

“Why do they think you’re narking?”

“Why else would I be talking to a cop every week?” Valjean gives him a pointed look.

“Why don’t you just tell them about Cosette?” Javert mutters even as he’s thinking _it’s none of their business why Valjean talks to him_. But if it saves Valjean some trouble he can tell them anything he wants.

Valjean grimaces. “Sure, how’s that gonna sound? You’re pretty much raising her while I’m stuck in here.”

“No, I’m not,” Javert stops. Is that what he’s doing? He’s not planning ahead, that’s for sure. Not thinking about what happens _after_ , except for what happens to Cosette.

“She’s attached to you.” Valjean says quietly.

“What, no, shit, she’s not.” If he walked out of her life for good tomorrow, she wouldn’t notice.

Would she?

Shocked, Javert remembers all the adults who did that to him. There's a hollow, empty feeling filling his chest.

“Look at those photos.” Valjean gives the folder a little push with his forefinger. “That’s you she’s smiling at. _You_ , she’s having fun with.” It kills him almost as much as it makes him happy. He can’t explain either emotion.

“Yeah, cause I told her to smile for _you_ ,” Javert shoots back.

Valjean shakes his head.

Javert debates with himself before shoving the question out into the open. “So why don’t you hate me?” He’s been wondering it for a while, can’t figure it.

Valjean stares at him. “I can’t hate you. You’re… even, before this, I didn’t.” He could never truly hate Javert.

“You never hated me in prison?” Javert finds that extremely hard to believe.

“Okay, fine, back then sure.” Valjean shrugs. “But you know what they say, the best romances start with hate and then dubious motel sex,”

“You always make everything a joke.” But now Javert’s grinning. He can’t help it.

Valjean leans in intently. “I don’t hate you. I… I just keep waiting for you to realize you can do better than me, and walk out of here for good.” There now he’s said it.

Javert’s eyes sweep over his face. “You know that’s impossible.”

“Why?” Valjean challenges.

“Because _there_ is no one better than you.” Javert murmurs, his heart pounding at saying the words, but it’s completely fucking true. He could search the whole wide world over and there’d be no one better than Valjean. It’s that simple.

Valjean shakes his head incredulously. “And here, all this time I’ve been thinking that about you.”

“ _Me_.” Javert can’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“Yeah, you idiot, you.” Valjean leans in. “You’re the only one who could have convinced me to turn myself in, you know that, right?”

Javert can barely breathe. “Yeah, but I don’t think my chief would approve of me using the motel method on all reoffending cons.”

Valjean barks a laugh. “Good.” He sits back, trying to give Javert some space. He thinks about what Javert said.

“So…nobody thinks anything about you visiting a con?" He’s been wondering about that.

"Who?" Javert squints at him. "Who the fuck gives a shit what I do?"

"I do." Valjean mutters. It’s true.

Javert just looks at him. "Sure, you just love being reminded that I've been there every time you wind up back in prison?"

"At least there's some constant." Valjean fumbles, and finally shuts up. He sounds like a sappy romantic comedy.

But Javert crooks a smile at him, and Valjean just grins back. 


	24. Chapter 24

Two weeks after the review board and no word from the court. No immediate ruling, no delayed decision, nothing. Javert’s edgy as hell. He knew the odds of it coming to anything quickly weren’t realistic but still. He’d _hoped._ Maybe that's the problem. Hoping for something that probably wouldn’t even happen.

Valjean is a model prisoner. He’s gotten nothing but good reports since he was sentenced and taken to prison. That _has_ to count for something. At the same time, Javert can’t truly argue with the sentencing. Valjean committed a crime; he’s doing his time. That's the way the law works. This is merely the first time in his career Javert understands pleading for the exception. Valjean is the exception to the rule. He doesn’t deserve this.

Javert hasn’t told Cosette anything about the review because if nothing came of it, he couldn’t bear to see her disappointment. Hell, he’s barely able to stand his own.

What’s worse is the way Valjean’s handling it. He doesn’t even ask about the review. He never expected anything to come of it. It’s not like he’s disappointed in Javert, no it’s worse than that. Like he knows Javert gave it his all, and there’s just nothing to show for it. Nothing at all.

 *  *  *

Javert can’t wait any longer. He’s fucking sick of waiting. If this is the way things are going to be from now on, well…

He raps on Bishop’s door. “Chief, can I go to La Santé and see an inmate who possibly has some info on the Caron case.” He’s lying through his teeth, but he needs this.

Bishop looks at him long and hard until Javert’s absolutely certain that man knows exactly what he’s planning to do. He waits, trying not to fidget.

“You file the paperwork, I’ll sign it.”

It’s like getting a blessing _. Go forth and receive thy grace. Swallow well, my son._

“Thanks, chief.”

*  *  *

It’s a Wednesday. Javert paces back and forth in the interrogation room, checking his watch every twenty seconds. When he first walks into the room Valjean’s face is carefully neutral. and then he sees Javert.

The guard gives Javert something that he slips in his pocket as he closes the door, and locks it.

“What the hell?” Valjean’s confused.

“I told them I had to interrogate you about a possible connection to a current robbery investigation.” Javert tells him calmly. “So we’ve got about two hours.”

Valjean still looks confused.

“I can’t wait ten more months.” Javert reaches for the camera in the corner, switching it off and turning to face Valjean.

Valjean’s eyes widen. "Are you serious? Can we do this?"

Javert shrugs as he pulls off his jacket, slinging it over the chair. "It's in your best interest to let yourself be fully interrogated by me." He walks over to Valjean, pushing him up against the wall.

"Right. For justice." Valjean's struggling not to laugh.

 Javert smacks him across the thigh. "Yeah, that's right. For justice."

“Oh, well,” Valjean starts to say something more, but Javert’s kissing him hard, hands busy with his prison uniform, tugging Valjean’s pants down around his thighs.

“I need you now.”

Valjean snorts. “You just want to have sex with me in handcuffs.”

“Yeah, there’s that too,” Javert bites at his throat, feeling Valjean's pulse against his teeth. “Well?”

“Are you kidding me?” Valjean has their positions switched so quickly Javert’s head spins. “I want that so much, I want you.”

“Then stop talking and get your dick out.”

“Yes, sir.” Valjean’s tone is mocking and this time Javert smacks his ass.

He pushes Valjean off him. “Up against the wall, spread ‘em, hands above your head.”

Valjean sighs, but does it. Javert finishes getting his pants down and sits back on his ankles, surveying the scene. Valjean’s dick is half hard already and Javert runs a finger along the curve of it.

“Come on,” Valjean urges, eying the clock on the wall worriedly.

“We have time.”  Javert kneels, smiling up at Valjean. “Close your eyes.”

Valjean wants to argue with him on that one, but Javert doesn’t move until finally he closes his eyes.

There’s not as much time as Javert would like, but two hours is pretty good. He’s still going to enjoy every last second of this, and he’s going to make damn sure Valjean enjoys it too.

He runs his tongue down the length of Valjean's cock, lingering over the head.  This time there’s no wall between them. He can take Valjean as deep as he wants. He can suck on Valjean’s balls, so he does that first, nuzzling them with his tongue until Valjean’s moan escapes him.

“Come on, Javert.”

Valjean sounds desperate and Javert likes it. He drags it out until Valjean’s cock is leaking drops pre-come, and Valjean’s doing his best to keep himself from thrusting his cock just straight down Javert’s throat.

Javert runs his tongue over the slit, sucking him lightly there until Valjean growls down at him. “You’re a bastard, you know that, right?”

He looks up to see Valjean’s eyes wide open, fixed on him. “Hey.”

“You think I’m gonna miss the chance to watch you suck me off?” Valjean asks. “Really?”

Javert shoots him the finger and then slides Valjean’s dick straight down his throat.

“Jesus, fucking christ.” Valjean’s wrists tighten in his cuffs. Javert’s mouth is like magic. Now Valjean’s eyelids flutter closed for an instant. He counts to ten, just focused on the heat, the tongue working over him. He opens his eyes again, gazing down at Javert, watching the way Javert’s head is moving at his crotch. Valjean lowers his hands so he can run his fingers through Javert’s hair awkwardly. _Fucking handcuffs._

“I’m gonna come if you keep this up.”

At that, Javert slowly drags his lips off Valjean’s cock, looking up at him. “That’d be a shame, cause I was counting on you fucking me.” He grins at Valjean’s face, and bites his thigh.

“Fuck!”

Javert runs his tongue over the mark he’s left on Valjean’s thigh, kissing it, before he gets to his feet.  

“I mean, if you don’t want to, no pressure.”

“Don’t say stupid shit.” Valjean growls in frustration. “You know I want that.”

“Good.” Javert reaches for his zipper. “Oh, this might help.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key.

“Is that,” Valjean just stares at him as Javert takes his wrists, unlocking his cuffs. “You little shit, you had that the whole time.”

“Four days you kept me in cuffs,” Javert reminds him, then groans as Valjean’s freed hands cup his ass.

“I enjoyed every minute of that,” Valjean tells him brazenly. “Get your pants down.” He doesn’t move his hands so as Javert pushes his jeans and boxers down, his fingers squeeze Javert’s bare ass.

Javert just leans in, grinding against him until Valjean’s kissing him again, one hand in his hair, one hand on Javert’s ass, nudging him backwards towards the table.

“Up.” Valjean says breathlessly, pulling his shirt off.

Javert lifts him up on the table and Valjean pulls at his shoes and jeans until Javert’s half naked, sitting there, expectantly.

“I don’t suppose you brought any lube with you.” Valjean runs his hands up Javert’s thighs.

“That was one thing I didn’t want to have to explain to the guard,” Javert admitted.

Valjean chuckles. He just sticks two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them until they’re covered in spit. Javert spreads his legs as Valjean pushes into him. Fuck, it’s been too long. He’s bracing his hands on the table letting Valjean finger-fuck him until he’s the one begging.

“Come on, stop teasing.”

Valjean just kisses him harder, curling his fingers.

“Goddamnit,” Javert moans. “Fucking do it already.”

“You’re the one who said we had time,” Valjean reminds him, twisting his fingers just so, making Javert fucking whimper.

“I lied. Jesus christ, just fuck me already.”

“Well, since you ask so nicely.” Valjean pulls his fingers out and lines up his cock. “Say please, inspector.”

“Fuck you, _please_ ,” Javert’s hips rise off the table as Valjean thrusts inside him, filling him. “Fuck.”

Valjean’s hands settle on his hips, fucking into him at a steady rhythm, gazing at Javert like this is the only thing on his mind, this moment here and now, this is all that matters. Javert takes this opportunity to run his hands over Valjean’s chest, leaning in to graze his teeth over Valjean’s left nipple.

Valjean lifts his ass off the table, fucking just lifts Javert like it's nothing.

“Jesus,”

Valjean just pins Javert there against the wall, smirking at him, far too pleased with himself and his goddamn strength.

“Show off.” Javert ‘s hands settle on Valjean’s shoulders. _Fuck_ , this is just the right angle.

“I could hold you here for hours,” Valjean sucks at his neck. “Just keep fucking you here until your ass is dripping from my cock.”

Javert retaliate by biting his throat and Valjean snarls, thrusting harder, driving into Javert until he wants to fucking shout from it. Valjean lifts him higher, pulling his cock almost all the way out, teasing Javert’s hole with just the head before he finally pushes back in. Javert clenches hard around him, like he’s never letting go, wrapping his arms around Valjean’s neck. They’re fucking as one, knocking into the wall. Javert’s gonna be bruised tomorrow, but he’s glad because this is happening. It’s real. He’s got Valjean in him right now and he wants his body to remember this.

Valjean murmurs something into his hair. Javert can’t make it out. He wants to know what it is, wants to know everything of Valjean’s, but then Valjean’s kissing him and the world slips away.

 


	25. Chapter 25

Javert picks up Cosette from school on Tuesdays and Fridays, taking her to the library before he drops her off at home. This Friday they’re just leaving the library when he gets a call from Bishop.

“Sir?”

“Can you run back to the station real quick?”

Javert glances at Cosette who’s in the back seat, a stack of books half as tall as her beside her on the seat. “Can it wait till tomorrow?”

“Not really, Javert.” Bishop says flatly.

Javert sighs silently. “On my way, sir.”

*  *  *

He debates leaving Cosette in the car, but hey, Bishop told him to bring her by some time, so fine, he’ll do that.

“Hey Cosette, wanna see where I work?”

“Sure,” Cosette grabs his hand and they walk up the stairs into the building.

Javert lets her push the button in the elevator.

“Is this where you catch bad guys?” Cosette asks, sticking her tongue out at herself in the mirror.

“No, this is where I do paperwork after I catch the bad guys.”

The doors open.

“Come on.”

Cosette trots along behind him, inspecting everything curiously. Javert ignores the looks and smiles they’re getting.

He settles Cosette at his desk, gives her a case report to occupy her attention and goes to rap on Bishop’s door.

“Sir?”

Bishop nods through the window. “Cute kid.”

“I think so.” Javert mutters. “She was with me when you called, I had to bring her along.”

“It’s fine, Javert.” Bishop says patiently. “I told you to bring her by sometime.”

“Yeah, I know.” Javert glances out the window. Cosette is busy filing out his case report. “Anyway, sir,”

“Ah, yes.” Bishop picks up a file from his desk. “So, it would appear that you’re a good influence.” 

“Excuse me?” Javert’s never been anything of the sort. When he was young he was always that kid who behaved and the other kids hated him for it. That sort of thing carried on through university.

Bishop just hands him the file. Javert scans it quickly. He has to read it twice to make sure he understands it. “Is this for real?”

“Apparently.” Bishop permits himself a slight grin. “From now on you’ll be allowed to continue your interrogation proceedings in the privacy of your own home.”

Javert blushes fire engine red. “Sir, about that,”

Bishop waves it aside. “I don’t need to hear it, Javert. But I assume this is going to continue after he’s out.”

“I…” Javert falters. “Hope so.” They don’t talk about after.

“Right, well, I would wait until Sunday to go tell him. The paperwork will be through by then, and then he’ll only have to wait until Monday.”

Some prisoners get twitchy near the end, can’t take the waiting. Bishop’s only meaning to be kind, but Javert shakes his head. “Sir, I can’t do that. He deserves to know. He’d want to know.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Javert’s never been more certain of something.

“All right.” Bishop fixes him with a stern gaze. “Make sure he knows he’s lucky to have you.”

“Yes sir,” Javert practically bolts for the door.

He has to pry Cosette away from reorganizing his desk, bribing her with the promise of ice cream just to get her to the elevators.

 “You’re happy.” Cosette asks suddenly.

“Huh?” Javert stares at her.

“Your mouth is going all smiley.” She says. “Did something nice happen?”

“Yeah,” Javert squeezes her hand tightly. “Something real nice.”

“Good.” Cosette smiles at him.

*  *  *

It’s Javert who has the rough time waiting that night. He can’t go visit Valjean until tomorrow morning, but it’s no good telling his brain that. He can’t sleep, mind too busy to think about anything but the next three days.

The Fauchelevents are taking Cosette for a holiday over the weekend, planning to return on Monday morning. Javert decides not to tell Cosette anything about this until then, just in case. He knows it’s superstitious, but he can’t help it.

*  *  *

Saturday morning Javert heads out to the prison way too early. He sits in the parking lot, drinking coffee and flipping through radio stations until the visitor's gate opens.

*  *  *

“Eventually, they’re going to realize something is up when you turn off the camera.” Valjean sits down across from him.

“I’m not here for sex.”  Javert says impatiently.

“Oh, really?” Valjean raises an eyebrow. “What else could you possibly be here for?”

“This.” Javert hands him the file and sits back, waiting as Valjean reads it through, watching the lines creasing his forehead as Valjean frowns at it.

“I don’t get it.” Valjean looks up at him. “What’s it mean?”

“It means,” Javert says very carefully, “That since you’re a model prisoner with little chance of reoffending, you’re to be released and that there’s no reason you can’t be reunited with your family at once.” He takes out the other paper and hands it to Valjean.

Valjean stares at him. “Javert, you mean this.” He can’t believe it.

“Yeah.” Javert says. “It’s true.” He still doesn’t know which part is best. The early release or the fact that the judge has declared Valjean as Cosette’s legal guardian. _Both_ , Javert decides. _Both are good._

“When?” Valjean’s still staring at the paper like he can’t believe it.

“Tomorrow,” Javert half chuckles, half grimaces. “The paperwork’s still being processed. Sorry I couldn’t do better than that. It’s only one day more, I know, but,”

“You ever say something as stupid as that again and I’ll punch you.” Valjean says quietly.

Javert stares at him. Valjean leans in.

“There is no better than this.”

“Right.” Javert’s afraid if he lets himself smile as much as he wants, his face will crack wide open.  For a minute they just look at each other, and then Javert stands. “I’d better go.”

“Yeah.” Valjean stands as well.

“See you tomorrow.” Javert tells him.

“Tomorrow.” Valjean murmurs back.

One day more.

*  *  *

Once back in his cell, Valjean stands there a moment, absolutely still. He can’t believe this is happening.

Slowly, he gathers together all the pictures Javert’s brought him over the last eight months. Each one is a testament to Javert’s character, his kindness, his sincerity, his deep sense of obligation. Cosette is happy here in these photos, truly happy; Javert did that. Valjean stands there in his cell, pictures in his hands, suddenly blindsided by emotion.

Of all people, it's Javert who’s stolen his way into Valjean's heart.

His hands are trembling as he sinks down upon his bunk.

*  *  *

Javert’s apartment is never particularly untidy. He doesn’t have much to _get_ untidy, yet he straightens up the few files he has lying around the place, and tidies the bookcase with Cosette’s books and toys.

He goes to the market down the street and buys steaks and potatoes, asparagus, mushrooms, three bottles of red wine, a bouquet of flowers, and after a moment’s reflection, a couple bottles of lube. The teenager at the checkout counter gives him a dubious look. Javert just stares him down.

He takes the groceries home and puts them away, sets the fresh flowers in water on the table.

Changes the sheets on the bed.

The floor’s swept.

 Javert has a beer and waits.

Time does not move quickly.

*  *  *

That night Javert still can’t sleep, too wound up, so he goes for a walk.

He walks along, kicking at a can in the street, remembering that walk with Valjean and Cosette. Tomorrow Valjean will be released. On Monday Javert will take him to pick up Cosette. After that, well anything could happen.

Javert goes home and sleeps on his couch so as not to rumple the sheets.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Javert’s leaning against his car when the gate opens and Valjean walks out. The sun is bright and warm and Valjean looks around him for a moment before seeing Javert waiting there for him. He smiles.

Javert straightens up as Valjean walks over to him. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Valjean says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Javert takes the driver’s side; Valjean gets in the passenger door. Javert slides his keys in the ignition.

“Hey.” Valjean says softly.

Javert looks sideways, and then Valjean just leans over to him. Their lips meet halfway between the two seats. It’s not rushed, it’s not slow. It’s just a long, measuring kiss. This is new. There are no restraints this time. There’s nothing holding them back.

Javert finally leans back. “What do you want first?”

“A shower. You.” Valjean’s eyes would say exactly what he wants, even if his mouth hadn’t. He looks like he could go right here in the car. While Javert has thought about that more than once, he doesn’t really want to fuck in the visitor’s parking lot of the prison. Besides, he has a plan.

“We’ll get to the shower,” he promises, starting the car. “First I have somewhere to take you.”

  *  *  *

“In all honesty this wasn’t what I was expecting,” Valjean eyes the bar in front of them. “I appreciate the idea, but you realize it’s not even noon, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Javert pushes the door open, getting out. “But If I take you back to my apartment right now, my landlady will only assume we’re there to fuck.”

“Would she be wrong?” Valjean asks idly over the car roof.

Javert’s cock stirs at his tone. “No, but then she’d just try to corner you at some point and tell you how _nice_ it is to see you around the place, and try to get you to get me to stop working so hard.” The boyfriend variant of the speech that he always gets when he ran into her in the hallway. Not really fair when Valjean’s not his boyfriend. Not technically. Fuck, Javert doesn’t know what they are.

“I see.” Valjean’s trying not to laugh as they walk into the bar.

“Besides, we have something to do.”  Javert reaches the door first and holds it open for him. Valjean gives him a look, but makes no comment at the gesture.

The bar is mostly empty at this hour, but it’s quiet and upscale. Javert nods at Valjean to take the corner booth and goes over to the bar.

Valjean sits in the booth and looks around. It’s a nice place, the kind you’d take someone on a really nice date. There’s a lump in his throat as it suddenly clicks.

Javert slides into the booth next to him. “I know you’d want to see Cosette right away, but they won’t get back till tomorrow morning. So you’re stuck with me today.”

“That’s all right,” Valjean strives to sound casual. “This is good.” He wants to see Cosette, of course he does, but he’s glad she’s having fun and frankly, he’s enjoying being completely alone with Javert for once. Truly alone (well except for the bartender). It’s a unique experience.

Javert’s smile spreads across his face.

The bartender brings over a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He opens the bottle as Javert pretends he can’t see the way Valjean is fucking grinning at him. The bartender pours them both a glass, smiles at them and leaves them alone.

“Fancy.” Valjean comments as Javert pushes his glass over to him. Their fingertips brush, and then Valjean just sets his hand over Javert’s and that’s that. “Bit different from our first meeting.”

“Whatever,” Javert says. “You loved that.” He’s distracted by the way Valjean’s hand feels over his.

“Yeah,” Valjean agrees. “I did.”

“So…” Javert picks up his glass.

“So.” Valjean says back.

Finally they both sit back a little, releasing their hands.

Javert looks at him directly. “Do you ever wish we had met like this?”

“Do you wish we had?”

Javert just keeps looking at him until Valjean surrenders. “All right, all right, stupid question.” He’s still curious though. “What would you have done if this was then though?”

“What?”

“Supposing you had seen me in a bar like this that night, what would you have done?”

“I’d have arrested you,” Javert’s answer is automatically.

Valjean just chuckles. “Some things never change.”

Javert’s hand closes on his wrist. “That was then. If it was now, I’d ask you if I could buy you a drink. And then I’d ask if you wanted to go home with me.”

Valjean’s lips quirk. “Straight to the point, Inspector.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Oh, I’ll take it.” Valjean leans in to kiss him, not caring where they are. The kiss leaves Javert with a fluttery feeling in his chest. Like maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea after all.

Valjean’s hand strokes up his thigh as he deepens the kiss. Javert leans into it, and then finally, has to pull back to breathe.

“Come on,” He picks up his glass and hands Valjean’s to him.

“I wasn’t finished.” Valjean murmurs.

“We’re making a toast, and then we’re going home, come on.” Javert holds his champagne up. “To the future.”

“To the future.” Valjean clinks his glass and they drink, gazing at each other as they do.

*   *   *

Valjean smiles against the back of Javert’s neck, kissing him softly there as Javert unlocks the door to his apartment.

“This is nice.” Valjean looks around, sees the evidence of Cosette’s presence in the apartment. There are wineglasses waiting on the table, the wine bottle next to the flowers.

 “Thank you,” Valjean tells him abruptly.

Javert looks at him as he hangs up his coat. “What for?”

“Everything.” Valjean’s tone is serious, like he means this.

 Javert just nods, at a loss at what to say. Finally he settles on, “So, shower’s through there,” nodding at the bathroom.

Valjean sets his duffle bag down. “Right.” He drops his jacket over a chair and pulls his shoes off, placing them by the door, tucking his socks neatly inside them.

Javert’s itching to pull Valjean’s clothes off himself and just fuck right now.  But he knows Valjean probably feels he stinks like prison, and this is about what Valjean wants, so he’ll wait. He can wait. He’s gotten good at waiting. Well, mostly.

Valjean strips off his t-shirt, drops it on the chair and walks into the bathroom.

Two seconds later he pokes his head out. “I don’t have to do it alone.”

“I was trying to give you some privacy,” Javert tells him.

“That’s nice, and I appreciate it,” Valjean stands in the doorway as he unzips his jeans. “But I want to see you naked.” He slides his jeans and boxers down in one movement and steps out of them.

First time. First time really naked in the broad light of day. Valjean looks like a god in Javert’s eyes, which is something that’s going on the list of things never to say because Valjean would never let live it down.

Javert’s cock approves heartily of the sight.

He unbuttons his shirt just enough to pull it over his head and drops it on top of Valjean’s. He takes his shoes off, tugs off his socks before as he walks across the room towards Valjean. Javert steps out of his pants and underwear, discarding them on the floor next to Valjean’s.

Valjean’s gaze travels all the way down his body, making heat rush to Javert’s dick. “Yeah, that’s better.” He grins. “Come on.”

Javert hands him a washcloth as Valjean gets the shower going. Javert’s shower is big enough for both them, but it’s a little close. Their shoulders keep bumping as they turn, rinsing off. Valjean just ducks his head under the spray, rubbing at his chest lazily.

“Always comes back to bathrooms.” Javert mutters.

Valjean’s free hand sneaks up his hip, “They’re good places.” His thumb strokes at Javert’s hipbone.

“You’re supposed to be getting clean, so we can fuck.”

“I’m getting there.” Valjean mutters. “Your…everything is distracting.”

“You’re the one who wanted me in here.” Javert’s compelled to point this out.

“I want you everywhere.” Valjean cups Javert’s face in his hands, kissing him until Javert grabs at his ass.

“Fuck the shower, come on.” He turns the shower off and pulls at Valjean. “Now.”

*   *   *

Droplets of water still cling to Javert’s skin as he pushes Valjean down on the bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Valjean does and Javert lowers his head, taking him in. Valjean groans, his fingers reaching for Javert’s hair, coursing through it tenderly as Javert goes down on him.

Javert strokes along Valjean’s inner thighs with his hands, only pulling off when he has Valjean nice and hard. “There.”

“Jesus, your mouth,” Valjean tugs him up for a sloppy, hungry kiss, tongue wrapping around Javert’s.

Javert breaks free to kiss his way down Valjean’s chest, reveling in having Valjean here at last in his bed.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Big promise.” Valjean leans back on his elbows. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Javert digs around in his bedside table for the lube he bought yesterday. He pours a good amount over his fingers. “Spread ‘em.”

“You just like saying that.” Valjean leans back, arms behind his head.

“Yeah, and I like seeing you do it.” Javert settles between his thighs. He eases his forefinger into Valjean, grinning at him as he does it.

“Fuck, that feels good.” Valjean tells him.

Javert adds another finger, rotating them slowly. He wants Valjean ready, but his dick is already impatient.

“Come on.” Valjean rocks against his fingers. “I want your dick.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Javert positions himself, catches Valjean’s eye, sees the challenge there, and thrusts in with one sure move. _Jesus, fucking, christ._ He’s never going anywhere again, nope, he’s gonna stay here buried in Jean Valjean for the rest of his life because it feels that fucking good.

“Fuck, yes,” Valjean grabs his hips. “Feels so good.”

Javert rests on his hands for a moment, just staring down at Valjean. “Five years ago, I never thought I’d be here.”

“What, in your apartment?”  Valjean’s busy cupping his ass.

“Fucking inside you, dumbass.” Javert rocks his hips a little, making Valjean bite his lip.

“Me either.” His hands squeeze Javert’s ass, settling Javert’s cock more firmly inside him. “I’m glad though.”

“Me too.” Javert speeds up, and then he loses track of specifics. It’s just their bodies rocking against each other, bare skin sliding deliciously against bare skin. They’re kissing when they come.

*  *  *

It’s mid-afternoon when Javert wakes up. He dimly remembers sliding out of Valjean and rolling over in bed, then just more kissing until, they fell asleep. His lips are a little sore, but in a good way.

Javert pulls on his boxers and goes over to the kitchen unit side of his apartment. He gets the coffee going and starts checking the stove.

“What time is it?” Valjean sits up in bed. He’s sitting in Javert’s bed. Naked. Javert doesn’t think he’s ever gonna get used to this.

“Little after three.”

“Can’t believe we slept so long.” Valjean yawns, stands.

“I can.” Javert feels better now, all nice and relaxed.

Valjean comes over to him. “What’re you doing?”

“Checking to make sure I have everything for dinner.” Javert eyes the hand on his hip. It’s weird how comfortable it is having Valjean’s hands on him. He keeps expecting to find it strange, but it’s just not. That's the weird part.

“You’re going to cook?”

“Yeah.”

Valjean just nods, pleased at the thought. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, put some pants on so I’m not distracted.”

“Nothing doing.” Valjean wraps his arms around Javert’s waist, kissing his shoulder. His cock rubs along the crease of Javert’s ass, soft and heated.

“Pour the coffee then.”

“Fine.” Valjean kisses him again and goes to obey.

*  *  *

Javert drinks his coffee slowly, watching Valjean, still naked, inspect his apartment.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Ten years or so. Why?”

Valjean just nods, like he’s thinking about something.

Javert finishes going over the contents of the fridge. He’s definitely got all the ingredients he needs. Now it just depends on when they want to eat.

“Food now or later?” Javert asks.

“Later.” Valjean says immediately. He gets the bottle of wine from the table, opens it, and sinks back down on the bed, waving it at Javert. “Come back to bed.”

Javert rolls his eyes and goes to him. They open the wine and share the bottle back and forth.

Valjean kisses wine, sticky warm kisses all across Javert’s chest. “Roll over.”

Javert does, resting his face on his arms. His cock rubs lazily against the sheets. He’s waiting for Valjean’s dick, but then Valjean’s tongue licks down between his cheeks, causing him to jump.  “Jesus!”

“Not quite.” Valjean parts his cheeks, licking his way all the way down, over Javert’s hole, making him squirm.

“Fuck,” Javert wraps his hands in the sheets as Valjean pushes his tongue inside. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This should not feel this good.

Valjean’s tongue is buried in his ass, fucking him steadily with it. Javert just pushes back against that greedy mouth, finally coming messy and hot all over the sheets.

“Jesus christ.” His body feels amazing.

Javert’s so fucked out, Valjean simply rolls him over and slides into him easily after that. His hands grip Javert’s ass as he thrusts deeper. Javert arches up against him, loving how Valjean’s hands feel.

 “I love your hands.” He wishes he didn’t sound so desperate when he says shit like that, but it’s there inside him and it just comes out. He loves how Valjean holds him. Every press of his hands on Javert’s skin makes him feel reassured. _No it’s better than that_ , Javert thinks. _Safe, yeah, that’s it_. Valjean’s hands make him feel safe somehow, in a way that Javert never knew he wanted to feel. As though if he were going to fall, Valjean would be there to catch him.

 Javert is infinitely glad he didn’t blurt all of that out aloud.

Valjean leans in, kissing along his neck, down his shoulder.

“I love you.” Valjean mouths into the curve of his shoulder, so low Javert knows he fucking imagined it. For a second he lets himself think about what if it were true, but then he forces the notion out of his head. It’s stupid to want something he’s not gonna get. This is _good_ right now. He can’t really ask for more.

Can he?

Valjean moves harder and faster as they fuck and this time, Javert bites his chest when he comes.

*  *  *

After that they just lay there, drowsy in the fading afternoon light, letting the sweat cool on their bodies.

“Up, come on, time to cook.” Javert pulls his shorts and pants back on.

Valjean grumbles about leaving bed, but finally does.

*  *  *

Javert’s got the steaks cooking on two sides of the stove, while he sautés the mushrooms on another burner. The asparagus is coming along nicely on the fourth. He has a sip of his wine as he watches the  stove.

Valjean just sits there, leaning against the table, watching him. At least he put his jeans back on. Still, his mere presence is intoxicatingly distracting. Javert can’t remember the last time he cooked for someone else. The one time Cosette was there long enough to get hungry he’d only had time to make her a sandwich.

Valjean sips his wine, still just watching him.

Javert eyes him. “If you really want to be helpful, you could always cut up the mushrooms.”

“Oh, you trust me with a knife?” Valjean grins, and Javert feels his pulse speed up. Fuck. Like he needs to develop a fucking knife kink now.

“Maybe later,” he says, voice husky at the thought. The look Valjean gives him makes him warm all over. “For now, just use it to chop with.”

“Yes, sir.” Valjean set to, whistling under his breath.

*  *  *

Javert cooks on as the afternoon fades into evening. The apartment smells like good food and good sex, a combination Javert finds he rather likes.

They finish the second bottle of wine with dinner. Valjean compliments Javert on his cooking several times and Javert just shrugs it off.

“I like doing it, but it’s not a big deal.”

“You,” Valjean points at him, “need to learn how to take a compliment.”

Javert just pours them both more wine.

  *  *  *

The third time they go to bed, it’s slow and easy, just grinding against each other lazily in the dark. Javert kisses Valjean’s chest and shoulders as Valjean wraps his arms around him.

He wishes this could last forever.


	27. Chapter 27

In the middle of the night Javert wakes up. At first he’s not certain what woke him, and then he sees Valjean lying there wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

“What’s the matter?”

Valjean’s silent at first, and then, just when Javert’s almost given up on him answering, he whispers, “What if I fuck it up?”

“What?” Javert sits up.

“Everything,” Valjean bites his lips, “Looking after Cosette.”

Javert places his hand on Valjean’s chest and Valjean looks up at him. “Here’s the thing, you’re going to fuck some of it up.”

“Thanks for that.”

“That’s what people do.” Javert tells him dryly. “But the important thing is that you love her, and you’re going to do your best to keep her happy and safe, and you’ll do that just fine. _That_ you won’t fuck up.”

Valjean rests his hand over Javert’s, just holding it. His heart is too full to speak.

Javert lays down again, his hand still held in Valjean’s, cradled against his heart. “Now be quiet and go back to sleep.”

Valjean chuckles, and Javert smiles, pressing his lips to Valjean’s shoulder.

 *  *  *

In the morning Javert wakes first and lies for a moment, watching Valjean sleep beside him. Selfishly, he wants to let Valjean keep on sleeping to prolong this time together. But that wouldn’t be fair.

“Hey, wake up.” Javert nudges him. “Come on, we have to get ready to pick up Cosette.”

Valjean yawns. “Is it really morning already?”

“Apparently.” Javert sits up, stretching his shoulders.

“So she has no idea.” Valjean’s not sure about that. What if she's gotten too attached to her foster parents?

Javert sighs, turning to face him. “I know, I wasn’t sure she could handle it if the parole board changed its mind at the last minute and anyway, I thought it would be…nice to…so we could, you know, fuck, just once without her around.”

Valjean chuckles, sitting up. And then he realizes what Javert said. “You mean once just like ‘this is nice to do once without her around,’ not once as in it’s never going to happen again, right?” Worry’s knotting tightly in his gut. Javert can’t mean that.

“You’re out now.” Javert says awkwardly. “You’re free. You don’t...need me now.”

Valjean just stares at him. “So you think this is goodbye? Seriously? That’s why you did this? Took me out? All of last night?” Now he’s more angry than worried.

“Well, yeah, I mean now you’re going to be busy looking after Cosette. That’s a full time job, and,”

Valjean leans over, clasping Javert's face with both hands. “Did anybody ever tell you that you’re an idiot?” He looks straight into Javert’s eyes. “Because it’s true. You’re an idiot and I need you.”

Javert’s throat tightens, “The feeling’s mutual.”

Valjean kisses him. “If you wanted out, then sure, I’ll walk out that door.” He doesn’t want to, but if it was truly what Javert wanted, he’d go.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I think we might have to move because I’m pretty sure Cosette wants a puppy for her birthday, and this apartment is too high up to be walking a dog up and down the stairs every day.”

“Move.” Javert echoes stupidly. “You mean, together.”

“Yeah.” Valjean looks at him. “If you want. If you want me, Cosette,”

Javert’s kissing him before he can mention the puppy next. He doesn’t give a fuck how many puppies they get.

*  *  *

When they reach the Fauchelevents' home, Javert steps back and lets Valjean knock on the door. Valjean tugs at his collar. It’s been eight months. That’s long for a kid, too long. What if she doesn’t…

Monsieur Fauchelevent opens it and smiles at them. “Cosette,” he calls, “There’s someone here to see you.”

Cosette walks into the hallway. “Who is it?”

“Hello, Cosette,” Valjean smiles at her.

“Papa!” She runs down the hall towards him, and Valjean kneels to catch her in his arms. He can’t speak, just wraps his arms around her as she tells him how much she missed him, how much she loves him, and have Javert and him come to take her home at last?

“Yes,” Valjean kisses her forehead. “We’ve come to take you home.”

They arrange to collect Cosette’s things later that day once the Fauchelevents have time to pack them.

“She's a delight,” Madame Fauchelevent tells Valjean. “but I am so happy you’re back.” She smiles at Javert as well. “It’s good the three of you are reunited once more.”

Valjean squeezes her hand warmly, while Javert just blushes. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.”

"It was our pleasure." The couple stands at the gate waving goodbye as they get in the car.

 *  *  *

The three of them go to the park to show Valjean the ducks and Cosette’s favorite swings.

Valjean pushes her on the swings, beaming at her as Cosette shows him how high she can go now. Javert snaps a picture of them on his phone. He suspects it will be the first of many.

“The puppy can be named Napoleon.” Cosette announces.

Valjean sighs. “Now, Cosette. I know that I said you could get one. But it will probably be a little while, and first we have to make certain it’s okay with Javert.”

 “Javert will let me get a puppy.” Cosette says confidently.

“Oh?” Valjean looks at her. “Why’s that?”

“Cause he loves me.” Cosette smiles winningly at Javert who sticks out his tongue at her.

Valjean smiles at her. “Well,”

“Like he loves you,” Cosette adds, smiling at him.

Valjean flushes. “Oh, Cosette.” He can’t look at Javert. He expects Javert to set her straight immediately, to explain this is all just starting new; it’s too early to say shit like that.

But Javert’s just looking at Cosette. “Why don’t you tell Valjean what kind of puppy you want?”

“A Prince Charles Spaniel,” Cosette says immediately. “They have floppy ears.”

Javert already knows, of course. Valjean feels a pang of jealousy and then it disappears just as quickly. It’s pointless to be jealous over such a thing. He’s grateful to Javert and he’s thankful to be out. Even now, Valjean can’t believe he’s free right now, standing here in the park with Cosette and Javert. It's like a miracle.

“Can we go to the ducks now?” Cosette asks.

“Yes,” Javert tells her and she springs off the swings, bouncing off down the path towards the pond.

“Come on.” Javert starts following her.

Valjean takes a minute, and then catches up. Cosette’s talking to the ducks. Javert’s standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, watching her.

“Hey,” Valjean touches his arm. “About back there, I didn’t want you to say something you didn't want to, just cause of Cosette.”

“I know.” Javert tells him.

“Good, cause,” Valjean shrugs. “I mean,”

Javert just looks at him. “What if I had said it?”

“Well, if you said it just to be kind to Cosette...” Valjean couldn’t have born that. He’s not sure he can bear this as it is.

“You should know by now that I wouldn’t say something merely to be kind to Cosette.”

“Right, so that’s why you didn’t say it.”

“No, that’s not it.” Javert says softly.

Valjean’s shoulders hunch. “It’s okay. I knew last night when you didn’t say it back.”

“What?” Now Javert’s just looking at him. “You really said that.” He'd been so sure it had just been his own imaginings.

“Yeah, and I just assumed,” Valjean looks awkward. “that you didn’t feel the same way.”

Javert’s dumbfounded. “But this morning you were all, ‘I need you,’ blah blah, blah.”

“It’s true. I meant that. Every word.”

“So you were planning on trying to have a relationship even if I didn’t love you?”

“Yeah, well,” Valjean shrugs. “I figured you liked seeing Cosette and you obviously like having sex with me, even if you didn’t love me, so,”

“I never said I didn’t love you.” Javert interrupts flatly. Clearly he has to; otherwise Valjean will meander on like this all fucking day.

“What?” Valjean freezes.

“You just assumed yesterday I didn’t. Couldn’t. I don’t know which.” Javert stares at the ground.

“That means...”

Now Javert just loses it. “What do you expect? A huge fucking neon sign? What do you think I meant, coming to see you in prison all those months because I couldn’t stay away.”

Valjean grabs his shoulders. “Say it.” _Just once, Javert, come on._

“You _do_ want a neon sign,” Javert grumbles accusingly. “You want a public statement, a declaration of affection.”

Valjean just gazes at him. “Just say it, just once, and then you never have to say it again, I promise.”

Javert sighs, then. “I fucking love you, okay? Jesus. Happy now?” He reaches his hands up to take hold of Valjean’s arms.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Valjean pulls him in for a kiss.

They stand there for a long time, just holding each other, both unwilling to break the kiss.

“Okay.” Javert says finally. “That kid across the pond is just staring at us.”

“Tell him to go away,” Valjean kisses him again.

“I should. Now he’s making eyes at Cosette.” Javert frowns at the nerve of the little brat.

“You could say it once more.” Valjean suggests.

“Screw you.”

Valjean just kisses him again and Javert squeezes his ass before he releases him.

“Papa,” Cosette waves at them. “Come see the ducks!”

Javert doesn’t believe in happy endings. Frankly, in his opinion, there’s no such thing. But watching Valjean walk over to Cosette, watching the way Cosette takes his hand,and seeing how they just smile at each other, and then at him.

Javert thinks maybe this isn’t so far off.


End file.
